De Ja Vu

Seventh grade must be the year of Creative Hygiene Techniques.  At least all my experience with seventh grade boys points to this conclusion.  And even weirder is the fact that both of my boys at the same age have done the exact same thing - with deodorant (and I'm not talking about it's 'normal' usage).  This is weird.

As soon as Bennett told me his predicament, I was instantly transported back in time to Gavin's deodorant story.  I do not understand our family's fascination with deodorant.   Really I don't.  I personally have a fetish that requires I re-apply a few times a day so as not to come anywhere close to smelling anything less than "fresh" and "mommy-like".  Trust me, my kids do not share that fetish.  If they did, I would be thrilled.  I also tend to brush my teeth 10 times a day.  Another odd habit I would be happy to see emulated in this household.  But no, there are definitely no brushing teeth fetishes at all.  Sometimes there is no brushing teeth at all.  But that's a whole nother blog.  Back to deodorant....

So, while we were out of town this past weekend, the kids stayed at Grandma and Grandpa's.  Bennett came back from Basketball tryouts and immediately took a shower.  That by itself is impressive people.  That he would walk into a bathroom on his own accord to shower without any adult suggestion or manipulation is miraculous.  I was very proud to hear of this account.  We are definitely showing progress in the Maturing To Adulthood Phase.

As the story goes, Grandma meant to put some soap in the shower earlier that day but had forgotten. She asked Chloe that night if there was any soap and Chloe told her "no" so she immediately went to get her some.  But this caused a little consternation for Grandma who remembered her 12 year old grandson showering in that same bathroom earlier in the day.  "Hmmmm", Grandma thought to herself, "I wonder how Bennett got clean if there was no soap in there?"  A very good question in deed.

The only way solve the mystery of how Bennett got 'clean' would be to ask him since he was the sole participant.  He proudly announced that since he didn't see any soap and didn't feel the need to ask for any, he was looking around for something to make him 'smell clean'.  And lo-and-behold what did his eyes fall upon but....his deodorant.  He thus commenced 'cleaning' his body with deodorant, rubbing it upon every service where the lost bar of soap should have gone.  This was after he was out of the water.  Water does wonders, but it does not always help you smell good, especially after playing basketball for 2 hours.  In steps "Sport Smelling Deodorant" and voila.  You now have an awesome smelling kid who may also be a genius for coming up with such a creative plan.  Oddly enough, he was complaining to me this morning about a mysterious "rash" that is popping up all over his body.  Hmmmm....I wonder why?

This may just be a good case-study for geneticists.  We still have one more kid to make it to 7th grade, so we'll get back to you in two years to find out if we're 3 for 3.  Then it would definitely be genetic.  If not, I conclude it is just a 12 year old 'boy thing'.  Just for the record, my hypothesis is it's a 'boy thing'.  Chloe wouldn't be caught dead now at 10 years old doing that. She would use her hair shampoo as soap instead of go without it.  So, gut reaction is...boys do weird things.  Especially with deodorant.  End of story.

All Of Me Loves All Of You

This weekend we celebrated our 18th anniversary.  Every year I'm amazed at how it just keeps getting better and better.  This year Chuck put so much thought and planning into a weekend get-a-way for just the two of us.  The kids stayed with Grandma and Grandpa while we stayed at the W Hotel in the Foshay tower in downtown Minneapolis.  We explored the city and all it had to offer. The time together was priceless.  I can't believe I'm this lucky and this loved.

We always have a song each year.   This year's song was "All Of Me".  The part of the lyrics I love the best say, "All of me loves all of you, all your curves and all your edges, all your perfect imperfections."  Isn't that what love does best...takes the good with the bad and loves you anyways.

The kids had so much fun that they announced upon our return, "We could do this every other weekend!"  I'm seeing many more boutique hotels in my future.

Back To School

Gavin - 10th Grade

It doesn't seem right.  Time can't really go that fast.  Can it?  I swear, I still feel this age every single day.   This must be some cruel joke time is playing on me.  My baby becoming a giant.  This year involves 2 AP classes, a trip to Germany and a possible summer internship at a company in downtown Minneapolis.  This adult who has inhabited my son's body is hyper interested in programming and learning all he can as fast as he can.  He checks out books called, "Hacking for Dummies" and "The Linux Bible".  I have to ask him to dumb things down for me once in a while so I can understand parts of our conversations.  He's in the process of creating for me a databank of all the popular texting and teenage acronyms so I can better follow along and look less confused.  He's ever so kind.  Don't even get me started on his love affair with the Science Channel.  We have half of that channel on our DVR so he can learn more and more science.  He is my chauffeur and my friend.  We have deep, wonderful conversations.  Then there are periods where we don't say more than 3 words to each other most of the day.  We are both processing this thing called Growing Up. 

Bennett - 7th Grade

Ever the happy, smiling, optimist.  Everything he does (excluding reading a book - unless that book is Calvin and Hobbes) is done with a huge grin on his face.  He radiates joy.  He is a loyal friend.  He's comfortable enough in his own skin to not worry about fitting in with the popular kids.  He has a strong moral compass but isn't self righteous or condescending to others who don't see things the same way.  He still has a heart for the underdog.  We even joked together at the beginning of this school year wondering which bully he was going to befriend this time.  The last three years he has ended up 'the friend of the bully' and I'm sure this year will be no exception.  Befriend as in: love him anyways, be patient with, stand up to, earn the respect of and help whenever possible.  Basketball is still his life and every lesson in life can be related back to basketball in some form or fashion.  He even wrote on an "About Me" back to school paper that his favorite quote is: "I can accept failure, everyone fails at something. But I can't accept not trying." - Michael Jordan

Chloe - 5th Grade

My baby is now at the highest ranks of the Elementary ladder.  It doesn't seem possible.  She was attached to my hip for years and now all the sudden this.  It just can't be.  I'm in denial.  Happy for her, sad for me.  Life is so exciting at this age.  She chose to go to a new charter school that opened up this year in our community.  It is small, project based and housed in one of the oldest school buildings in our city (which is a good thing since she loves all things old).  It is a perfect complement to her personality.  She is continuing horseback riding this year instead of gymnastics.  She realized that being with horses was in her blood and she has to spend her time at the barn with them each week.    Gymnastics was too competitive for her.  I love that she is learning this about her self and able to make decisions to stay true to her self.  She inhales books.  She reads faster than me!  She's become quite the fashionista but prefers the 'a la natural' look with her hair.  She's got friends all over the place and not enough time to play with them all.  Best of all, this is her very first year to ride the bus and to her ultimate joy she gets to ride the same bus as Bennett, her best friend. 

On A Wing And A Prayer

We tried desperately to squeeze every last drop out of summer break this past weekend.   In order to do so that means you must oftentimes come up with plans on the fly.  Especially if you live in Minnesota during this, The Summer That Wasn't.  I think we've had maybe 2 days that hit 80 degrees. So when the sun comes out, rain stays at bay and there is a tinge of heat in the air, you drop all plans and invent one that involves outdoor activity.  This is just how we roll up here.  We make the most of our outdoor time.  That is how this came to be our Fun Family Activity for Sunday.   We decided to load all our bikes up and drive into the City to ride around the Chain of Lakes and over to our favorite pizza joint, Punch.  Life just doesn't get much better than this for us.  

This is the back of Chuck's car.  I gave him that bike rack for Father's Day a year ago.  At around the same time, his trunk broke and has never opened since.  He felt he would not be able to use the bike rack with a broken trunk.  However, I was (rather surprisingly) able to attach the bike rack on all by myself (okay...with help from Gavin) without ever attempting to open the 'broken trunk'.  Being that I so economically purchased this little amazing piece of equipment off of Craigslist, it did not come equipped with installation instructions.  But it seemed rather straight forward to me.  I can't imagine how else it could have hooked on to the back of his car - with or without a functional trunk. Nonetheless, I was holding my breath the entire drive as I followed Chuck watching to make sure the 4 (way too) small hooks stayed attached.  The last thing we want is for me to run over the boys' bikes after they catapult off the rear end of Chuck's car sitting on a structure that I so securely attached to it. I had a lot riding on my pride.  I felt like the bikes were tied on with paperclips, some shoe string, gum and a few straws.  That's how much confidence I had in this contraption.

But miracles never cease.  We made it all the way into the City with all our bikes in one piece.  I am the slowest bike rider ever.  Part of the reason is safety (I fall off more than I stay on, so if I go slow reason dictates the fall won't be as severe).  The other reason is that you never know when you come upon a beautiful photo op.  Seriously, I stop all the time while I'm driving (bikes or cars) to take pictures.

We made it around Lake Calhoun and found our way over to Punch Pizza.  We were at the top of our game here.  Laughter, good food and warm weather abounded.  We discussed where we were going to zip off to on our bikes next.  Minneapolis is such a bike friendly city that there are bike trails going absolutely everywhere and bike racks all over the place.  We weren't the only ones who rode our bikes here and stopped in for a bite to eat on this sunny, warm day.  

As I was taking this picture of all of us getting ready to get back on the trail Chuck is saying, "Where is my bike?"  It didn't really dawn on me until I went over to him and he actually said, "Someone stole my bike."  Collective Gasp!  Noooo!  As high as we were earlier, we all came crashing down when the harsh finality set in that Daddy's bike was truly gone.  And there wasn't a thing we could do about it.  I know I instantly felt sick to my stomach.  So much for our Fun Family Activity.  Granted, none of us have bike locks.  We never felt the need to lock them up.  We've left them on public bike racks before with no problem.  But not today.  It was devastating.  That was a very special bike all of us (including all the extended family) went in on together to buy for Chuck for his birthday a few years back.  

Sigh.  Huge highs.  Deep lows.   As the four of us rode our bikes back to where we parked (probably a mile or two away), Chuck jogged along side us.  Always fun after ingesting a whole pizza.   

Summer sure went out with a bang for us. 

Smooth and Fat

So the other night we were comparing thumbs.  Fun.  Right?  Who doesn't do this?  Seriously, if you just isolate your thumb and look at it continuously it looks rather odd.  So, we're all holding our thumbs out for the rest of the clan to admire when Bennett makes an observation:

"I'm smooth and fat like Dad."

To which Daddy instantly replies, " *ahem* Let's clarify, we're talking about thumbs here.  That's the only part of me that's smooth and fat."

Of course.  That's all we were talking about.  Thumbs.  All of Daddy is not smooth and fat.  Not at all. It's just that when Bennett says it, it always sounds funnier.

How He Loves Us

Every time I hear this song, I think of these pictures.  Every time I see these beautiful sunsets/sunrises, I think of this song.  I decided to marry the two today.  Each of these are pictures I've taken over time. Whether on the plains of Texas, the beaches of California, the lakes of Minnesota, the desert of New Mexico or from the barrenness of Haiti, I can remember where I was each time and I am still awed.  It never gets old.  

Camping Misadventures

This was it.  This was the weekend we had all been waiting for.  It had been a whole year since our last, great, Mallott family camping adventure.  We were poised to deliver great expectations on this blessed trip.  However, we have noticed an uncomfortable trend infringing on our glorious camping experiences the last few years.  The trend (or curse) is that of rain.  It seems that no matter when or where we plan a camping trip, it rains.  Not just rain.  Thunderstorms.  This trip was no exception.  Not that it had rained at ALL for the past month.

We decided to head out early on Sunday since the forecast showed the higher percentage of rain for later in the day.  The entire drive to our destination - it rained.  That should have been clue number 1. Oh ya, and it was like 55 - 60 degrees...in August!  We could see our breath people! Our breath!!  This should have been clue number two - just turn around and go home now.  But no, ever the optimists we're all like, "Oh this is perfect hiking weather, we wouldn't want it any hotter - this is just great." Whatever.  Apparently, being outdoors does something funky to my brain and makes me question all things practical and wise.

Hiking in the cool fall-like weather of August with complete cloud cover and the occasional sprinkle was wonderful.  We were lost in the beauty of nature and rock climbing (please don't assume these are vertical levels we are attempting here, they are simply lots of rock outcroppings on a horizontal plane - much easier for us novices to handle).  We are out for a day of adventure and gosh darn-it, we will have it rain or shine!  We will not let the weather control our attitude - even though Chuck and I are giving weary glances back and forth wondering if we'll actually make it all the way through till the next morning.

This is the type of hiking we live for...off trail, climbing, a hint of danger involved and the smell of the great outdoors surrounding us.  A little sun and warmth added to the mix would be nice, but we realize we can't have it all. 

However, we were lucky enough to find the door to the woods, so we felt rather special.

This is the depth of hiking we had at our finger tips.  Too bad our finger tips and the rocks were too wet to climb because of all the rain!  And if it wasn't rain, it was fog.  The fog on the morning we woke up was so thick you couldn't see the other side of the river.

Like I said, we live on the edge.  If you have a teenager around (or Chuck), you know that if there is a sign that says something is probably hazardous, then we have to immediately head for that area and explore it and mock the sign that was meant to keep the weak minded away.  We made it half way down this cliff face before we realized a few important items: 1.  it was already starting to rain and the path was mostly a mud slope with an 10% grade, we might not make it back up.   2. Since it's so steep, it might be painful to (adult) muscles to have to climb all the way back up on slippery mud.  3. We didn't bring any rope, first aid kits or water....so if we got stuck in the 'hazardous' area Bear Grylls might think we hadn't been paying attention to all his hints and tips he so readily gives on all his survivor shows and we wouldn't want to disappoint him.

But oh, would Bear be proud of my husband for thinking up this little trick.  If there must be rain, then we WILL outsmart it.  Never again will we be caught sleeping in a water filled tent (yes, it has happened at least 2, maybe 3 other times to us).  This is the Tarp From Heaven.  It kept us dry all night long.  I was truly impressed with my husband's rope tying skills and ability to keep me from an utter melt-down in the rain.  

Unfortunately for us, we couldn't start a fire in our fire pit at the campsite.  Fortunately for us, there was a 'lodge' on the campgrounds with a massive fireplace.  We improvised and voila....we still had fajitas for dinner....even though we had to cook the teeny, tiny strips of chicken one at a time speared on a k-bob holder.  Our hands were getting slightly burnt being so close to the fire with our one slice of chicken.  Necessity is the mother of invention - thus, that is why our hands are wrapped in our table cloth.  Problem solved.  It only took us a hour to eat one at a time.  Each person got exactly one fajita with one piece of meat but hey, at least we got to eat, stay warm and dry for a while and even had ample space to play our family game of nertz after dinner.

Once we got back to our campsite there was really nothing left to do but read.  It was already getting pretty dark even though it was only 7:00 because of the storm outside.  We kept telling the kids, "We're making memories, so enjoy it."

Bennett took it seriously and decided he would be happier making memories if he could eat all the doritos and oreos he wanted inside his sleeping bag that comes equipped with arm holes.  He certainly was a Happy Camper.

Chloe was so disillusioned that we were going to bed so early she would have none of that (plus, she finished her book and hand nothing left to do).  She decided to run away.  At least as far away as the car and try to come up with a better plan.  There was alot of huffy breaths, crocodile tears and drama involved.   She felt we were all party poopers.  So she took it upon herself to try to get our campfire going.  She noticed that when she left the comfort of our shelter that it wasn't raining.  So even though the fire pit was soaking wet, she deduced that a fire would be had.  THIS is what camping is all about - sitting around the campfire at night talking and eating smores.  Thank God for her persistence and strong will in this because she won out, succeeded in dragging us all out of the tent and had (with a small bit of help from Daddy) gotten the fire started and all the chairs set up around it.  We enjoyed our last hour of no rain gathered around the fire talking.   

And then we lie in the tent for the next 8 hours listening to the rain pelt the tarp and the wind howl.  If I fell asleep it was on accident.  I don't know how it would have happened because all I remember was looking at the ceiling and trying to guess what time it was all night.  At one point I rolled over and told Chuck, "I feel like I'm an NFL coach who is waiting for the team to dump a cooler full of Gatorade on me."  I just KNEW all the water gathering on the tarp was going to somehow seep through and shower us from above.  We were all miserable, but made it through the night dry, much to my surprise.  We did a HARD thing.  It wasn't the optimal circumstances, but we indeed made a memory and tried desperately to make the most out of it.  

We were out of there, packed and on the road by 8am.   Maybe the Mallotts will only camp in cabins from now on.  This whole tent/rain thing is getting old.  Every. Time.

It Matters

This poem came in response to my utter sadness over the complete despondency in the world at the moment. I could allow all these horrible events to spiral me downward until I loose hope. Sometimes they do. But then God gently reminds me that He is my hope. He came to bring hope and love and a new way of living for right now. This beautiful earth often seems so full of injustice, fear, hatred, disease, mistrust and war. We hear so much more bad news than good news.

Bennett started reading the news on his phone. He recently told me that it makes him sad but he's glad to know what's going on. I told him I also felt the same way and apologized that we can't protect him from all the ugliness as much any more as we could when he was younger. He told me he doesn't want to be protected from it any more, that he needs to learn how to deal with it and what's going on so he can understand better the world he lives in. But most importantly he said he needs to know it so he knows how to pray. I couldn't agree more.

There seems so little that we can do. Praying is often the only thing I can physically do to help in some of these situations. I can't help the thousands of illegal immigrant children trying to cross the border (alone) for hope at a better (safe) life. I can't drop off food and water to the Kurds stuck in the mountains by Isis and left to die. I can't hug the family of Robin Williams who is left without a Husband and Father because his internal demons were too much for him to bear. I can't change the police in Ferguson, Missouri and ask them to treat the African Americans with more respect and kindness instead of hatred and fear. I can't make Israel and Palestine live in peace. I can't stop Ebola from spreading across Africa. And the list goes on ad nauseum.

But I can pray. I can touch of the lives of people I come in contact with every day. I can show love instead of reciprocating hate. I can give food to those around me who need it. I can help the immigrants and refugees here who I come in contact with every day. But most importantly, I can pray and trust the One who can change hearts and lives and nations. If we all touched one person next to us, then eventually, the whole world will be touched.

To quote one of my favorite movies (The Power of One): "A waterfall starts but with one drop, and look what becomes of that."

I have so, so many questions and I don't pretend to have any answers.  I'm confused so much of the time.  This is just me trying to reconcile all my questions with what I know to be true and what I feel and think. Sometimes it makes sense, sometimes it doesn't.  But I know that everyone matters, otherwise, why did Jesus die on the cross.  If they matter to him, they matter to me.

It Matters

It matters what you say
It matters that you pray
It matters what you do
It matters how you choose

People laughing on the outside
Might be dying on the inside
People hating on the outside
Might be scared on the inside

Spending time together matters
Holding hands in unity matters
Standing up for others matters
Speaking for the voiceless matters

Money doesn’t matter
Skin color doesn’t matter
Address doesn’t matter
Stuff doesn’t matter

Look at the heart, it cares
Look at their eyes, they plead
Look at the bodies, they are broken
Look at their faces, there is fear

Where is the hope?
Where is the love?
Where is the peace?
Where is the justice?

One to one....relationship,
That’s how we care.
Surrendering our pride and need for recognition,
That’s how we give.

Looking out for others not only ourselves,
Touches lives and tenders hope.
Speaking the truth,
Brings pain at first and justice in the end.

Actions matter
Words matter
People matter
Love matters

How do we erase fear?
How do we bring about justice?
How do we help the helpless?
How do we show we care?

We love our enemies.
We do good to those who hurt us.
We turn the other cheek.
We fight evil with good.
We mourn with those weep.
We bless and do not curse.
We pray and always hope.

It matters.

Guest Blogger

Today's post is from my favorite 12 year old.   I just love his heart, the way he looks at the world and who he is.  He writes from his heart:

Random blog late at night

Some people are made to write.  Some people are just good at it.  Notice I saidsome people.  (:  My Mom isn't an author but her blogs are like, really long.  Every time I finish a good book, (I counted and I have read 14 books this summer!  All of them were good.) I think to myself how easy it is to write a book.  I have a way of doing things like that it my mind.  Like I think to myself, if someone had a gun against my head and ordered me to to twenty pull-ups, otherwise I would die, I usually just think, yeah I could do that if I had to.  In real life if that situating happened, I would be able to do two pull-ups, then I would die.  Happy thought.  I have a lot of awesome ideas for books in my head but when I try to write them, I get about one paragraph done and give up.  There would probably be a ton of good books written by well, me, if I had continued them.  To many ideas but I can't follow through.  (:  I think the reason I always think that I could do something hat I actually can't do is because of my Lymes Disease.  Now if you were talking about someone who had a life threatening disease, you wouldn't talk about me.  But if you were talking about someone who, every morning wakes up and literally feels like he played a hundred games of rugby during the night them got hit by a truck going 70 mph, you probably will be talking about me.  (: No joke.  Calling me sore would be a huge understatement.  But I'm not complaining.  A couple weeks ago, we went on a canoe ride.  If you have ever gone canoeing on a hot day in a metal canoe in the middle summer you know it's fun.  A couple weeks before that and even that day, I had been taking pills for Lyme's Disease (that didn't work) and one of the allergic reactions that I didn't read was to stay out of direct sunlight.  (:  ahhh, if you know me, you will see the irony.  Making me staying out of direct sunlight?  Are these people crazy?  (:  but I didn't see the note.  So of course after canoeing for a while, I felt a very unusual feeling in my hands so to speak.  First, cake the tingling.  Then came the stinging.  Then came the burning.  Then came the agony.  IT HURT A LOT!  I cried actually and to make me cry from physical pain is very rare.  My hand were on fire and there was nothing I could do.  So I endured the seven mile canoe ride with my hands on fire except with no fire.    It hurt for days afterwards and I still have scars and burns on my hands right now.  Two days later, it was just me and dad in the car and he was asking me questions about the burning in my hands.  We finally came to the subject of cancer patients.  He told me that people with cancer, the medication they take makes their whole body like that!  I am truly grateful and thankful.  My guardian angel knows me well and has been with me through every painful situation I have been through.  (A lot). And probably is so sick if taking some of my pain. (:  Every time I am in a painful situation I actually think of God.  Or my family.  I think of how loved and lucky I am and how good of a life I live.  I am a ground magnet, a human punching bag, and I am sure that one day I will get hurt really really really bad.  But I don't care.  I have God's love, my families love and that makes me so very happy.  No one has a bigger smile than me when I realize all this.  I didn't write this blog to brag about how hurt I am, or how much pain I have endured, or anything else.  Actually I don't know why I wrote this blog.  It is like 11pm and my mind doesn't work properly after about 9:30.  (:  I had an impulse to write a blog so I did.  I don't know if I have ever written a blog this long for no apparent reason.  I have realized who I am.  I am a kid with a big smile, a kid who loves God, a kid who has the best family ever and who doesn't know much more than that.  Goodnight I guess.  I'm tired but maybe you guys are reading this blog in the afternoon or morning.  So I will just say good morning.  Or good afternoon.  Or maybe you are so happy you just wrote a blog for no reason and are reading his blog late at night.  Well since I don't whether to say good day or goodnight, I will just say good.  Cuz God is good.

Friendship

Unadulterated, pure joy, hand in hand - it must be Summer!

A true friend advises justly, assists readily, adventures boldly, takes all patiently, 

defends courageously, and continues a friend unchangeably.  - William Penn

Triathlon

This is the second year that Chloe has run the Miracles of Mitch Triathlon.  I just love, love, love that there is something kids can do to actively help other kids.  We didn't even ask Chloe if she wanted to do it this year, she just told us she was.  She raised donations all on her own too.  The air was ripe with nervous anticipation and excitement on race day.  The weather was perfect too.

The procession where all the kids (grouped by age/gender)

 walk into the staging area where the race begins.

Chloe and her friend (that she just met) right after 

finishing the first leg which is swimming.

Chloe beginning the second leg, which is biking.  

Still with new friend. 

Coming down the final home stretch.

Finishers!!

Chloe is loyal if nothing else.  The girl she did the entire race with she just met as they were waiting in the procession line.  Turns out they were both running for the same All-Star (kid with cancer) named Addison.  Then Chloe found out that this girl has been running the triathlon for a few years since her older sister was an All-Star but ended up beating the cancer.  Yay!  So it was very personal for her. 

On a separate note....Chloe did the whole thing without ever training.  That stinker.  I guess swimming a hundred yards, running a half mile and biking 3 miles is just child's play.  All in a day's work.  But she did tell me that next year she will probably have to train because she'll be in the older kids category and they have to do twice as much as the younger kids.

Rest In Peace

My dear, sweet Jadziu passed away Monday afternoon.  It was exactly 1 year and 1 week after my Bapchie's passing last year.  He was 94 years old.  He suffered from Alzheimer's for the past 13 years, but that's not what killed him.  It was a blood infection from his pace-maker.  He was otherwise still healthy and strong.  Always so strong.  He has cheated death many times before.  The one word that best describes him was: fighter.  He lived through throat cancer, prostate cancer, the war, pneumonia, car accidents and probably even more things that I'm not even aware of.   He still had the strongest handshake at 90+ than anyone I know.

Ed, as he was known, was born in December of 1918 or 1919, no one is really sure because the town hall where the records were kept burned down.  He was 1 of 6 kids born to Polish immigrants.  He grew up in Ellington, Connecticut where they farmed tobacco.  He was forced to leave school in the eighth grade to work full time on the family farm.  He adored his mom, but from what I remember, his father was a very hard person.  He joined the Army before Pearl Harbor.  He re-enlisted and served 6 years, 5 of those years were spent in WWII.  He was stationed in the Pacific Front in the Philippines.

He married my Bapchie when he returned home from the war.  He was six years her senior.  He never talked about the war that defined him so, much like every other man who served during that time.  They just never spoke about it.  He borrowed $8,000 from his father-in-law to buy their first and only house. It was in pretty bad shape when he bought it, but he fixed it up and continued to do so for the next 63 years they lived there.  He worked his entire life as an auto mechanic at Town Line Auto Body.  He could fix anything.  He was still climbing a massive telephone pole they had in their back yard that one end of their outdoor clothes line was attached too in order to fix the pulley system that was attached about 15 feet high off the ground - at 90+ years old, blind, with Alzheimer's.  Very little stopped him. They had two boys, six years apart.

I never lived close to my Grandparents but we always visited each other.  My Dad says that my Jadziu became a softer person once his grandkids were born.  I am the oldest of the 6 grandkids.  I remember asking him tons of questions about the war.  I know that he still suffered from headaches related to the war even now.  He lost his eye sight years ago, but he never let that stop him.  He would listen to books on tape and still read the paper every day (he could only see through his peripheral vision).  He read every National Geographic ever printed.  That is how he became so smart even though he never finished school.

This was the last time I saw him, a year ago at my Bapchie's funeral.  I had the chance to spend a few hours alone with him while my Bapchie was in the hospital.  He could never be left alone.  He was fiercely independent and his medicine often made him more confused and ornery.   The only time that seemed clear to his memory was his time in the war.  He thought I was female soldier coming to flirt with him.  He asked me all about my 'outfit' (what unit I was in).  I was making stuff up on the fly, it was hilarious.  We also sat outside in some lawn chairs for a while out on the driveway (they lived right off a main road and he often liked to watch the cars go by).  We were sitting very close to my car and he started asking me all types of questions about what type of engine it had.  His mind was still sharp as a tack when it came to cars, he could still tell you exactly how to fix any problem it had.

Jadziu was a life long Boston Red Sox fan.  That is why he is laughing in this picture.  My Dad placed his own Yankees ball cap on Jadziu's head which made him laugh and he said this was the only time you'd ever see this.  He never lost his sense of humor.  He was so funny.  Last year when the kids and I visited him, Bennett was trying to relate a story to him.  Jadziu responded with, "Don't ever tell a story if you don't have to."  It was pure Jadziu.  I traveled to Connecticut for his 90th birthday 4 years ago. He was still suffering from Alzheimer's but would still have moments of lucidity.  As I was about to leave to catch my plane he looked me directly in the eyes, held my hands and said, "May the Lord bless you and keep you."  My eyes still tear up  to this day with that recollection because I knew he knew exactly what he meant.  The thing he didn't know was that I send my kids off each morning with that same prayer.  My favorite memory of him is when I was a little girl and I would sit on his lap in the kitchen and we would eat oyster crackers with peanut butter on them together.  This big, strong man putting tiny globs of peanut butter on teeny tiny crackers...all for his grand daughter.

Thank you for the memories, Jadziu and for your legacy.