A blossom. And a root beer float.

Every spring brings the blooming of the cherry blossom trees in Washington, DC. It sort of has become a running joke in our family that my husband gets to spend his birthday traveling into the city to marvel at the gorgeous blossoms.





Sounds exactly how any guy would want to spend his birthday, yes?





This year he got to spend his birthday celebrating Easter and running from camels, so he was able to forego the cherry blossoms. The kids and I ... however ... took my grandmother to see bountiful blooms earlier in the week.

She and I ... we are one in the same. Love that lady.





While we did see the cherry blossoms, we mostly sat in traffic. A lot of traffic. I'm pretty sure everybody and their brother ... and their brother's brother ... was there to see the cherry blossoms when we were. And the roads along the tidal basin cannot support all that traffic.





So you sit. And sit some more. And have photo ops that you would not have otherwise had.





We did eventually find a parking spot. Thank the Lord because I'm not sure I could take any more, "Mom ... when are we getting out of the car?!"

The kids did very well, actually ... I'm pretty sure they thoroughly enjoy sitting in a car for about two hours while inching down a road. I know I don't do. After all, I got to listen to Mason and Gigi -- as the kids call my grandmother -- bicker about Lord knows what.

"Mason! Do you like to argue? Because I certainly do!" 

Ha ... I love my grandmother.





After sitting in traffic for so long, we only spent about 20 minutes down at the tidal basin oohing and aahing over the blossoms. We had a lunch date with my husband -- one of Gigi's favorite people.

As we scurried back to the car, I watched the little momma as she put her arm around her sister. She is so damn cute, I can hardly stand it.







We took Gigi to lunch at Johnny Rockets. She had never been before, but she was happy that she could get herself a big, juicy cheeseburger.

And a root beer float. She sipped on that thing like a school girl on her first date.

I asked her how long it had been since she had a root beer float ... and she said the last time was before my grandfather passed away. It actually has been nine years today ... a piece of my soul is buried five feet under.

I miss that man. Oh, how I miss him.

My second father. My hero.



Rest assured Gramp ... I'll get Gram another root beer float. Sometime real soon.

My Ode to my Grandfather

On August 7, 2007, my grandfather passed away. Today as I was going through some old paperwork, I found this eulogy that I wrote for his funeral and thought I'd share it here so I always have it ...

The man whose life we are here to celebrate is my grandfather. My name is Bethany and I am the third of 15 grandchildren.

When we were growing up, my sister and I were always so excited when it was time to go to Florida to visit Grandpa and Grandma. As soon as we arrived, they would take us to the grocery store to get us our white bread and 2% milk, because we did not want their wheat bread and skim milk. This sounds ridiculous to me now, but I say this because Grandpa and Grandma lived and breathed family and they always made sure we had the little things that made us happy.

When I was younger, I remember trying to bring some fashion into Grandpa's life ... not that he wasn't fashionable in his own way. For as long as I can remember, he has worn socks that were almost knee high. We used to roll those socks down to his ankles and flip his collar up. I think one time we even forced him to go to dinner at Ryan's like that ... of course he obliged ... anything to make us happy, right? Eating as Ryan's, by the way, was a ritual in our family. I'm not sure that a visit went by that we did not go to Ryan's for dinner.

I remember often begging to drive Grandpa's goft cart through the neighborhood ... I mean where else can you go and drive a goft cart down the road? We also used to beg for a ride in his 1969 Ford Mustang convertible, that happened to be the same color as split pea soup. I think Grandma took us for a ride one time and I also think that I'm lucky to be alive after that trip.

As I got older, I always knew that a collared shirt would go a long way with Grandpa for a gift. Oh wait, a collared shirt with a pocket, of course ... or else it was useless to him.

Watching TV with Grandpa? I always knew that I would never hear a commercial thanks to that handy mute button. Oh, and if you were talking to Grandpa and he ignored you, that was usually solved by a wave of your arm to cue him into the fact that he needed to pull out his remote control and turn up his hearing aid. Being the electronics guru that he was, it only made sense that he would have a remote control for his hearing aid.

Speaking of electronics, how many 90 year old men do you know that know how to instant message and use a webcam on the computer? Many of us have talked at length with Grandpa though instant messaging ... those conversations are ones that I hold dear to my heart. Through the webcam, you would see the top of his head as he typed his message key by key ... it always caused me to chuckle and my heart swelled with pride to know that this man was my grandfather. I'm so proud of him.

I now have two children of my own and I'm so thankful that they have had the chance to spend time with Grandpa. His favorite thing to do with the kids was play "head thinker, eye blinker, nose smeller, mouth eater, chin chopper, gully gopper" ... it melted my heart every time.

Our family could not have asked for a better patriarch to lead the way. He has shown us all what it means to be a hard worker, and more importantly, what it means to have such an awesome family. As much as he wanted to make us happy, I hope that we made him even happier. I feel blessed to know that he is still leading the way in spirit and that he is now rejoicing with our loved ones in heaven. I love you Grandpa and please give Grandma a kiss for me.