I need to blog

more.
But I am busy.
Like, real busy.
I remember when I was pregnant with Tiny, my Spanish bff said, Martha, 3 is more than 2+1. Sounds better in Spanish but she was right. And lemme tell ya, 4 is more than 3+1. But it is the best kind of busy, controlled chaos, completion I have ever know. All that I have ever wanted. And more. because I did not know to ask for the bliss that is raising children, loving them, having an amazing husband, and wanting a bed big enough for everybody because it is just right, being all together.
So my 2011 goal was to write more. And take better care of myself. I am doing well at both. Better at taking care of myself but working on the writing part. And I have this kind of conviction that I need to blog more.
So here I am.
Hello.
My grandmother is dying. Dieing. Which is it? Never can remember. Either way, she is crossing over to eternal life. Like now. Like, in the next few days. Weeks if we are lucky. This has not been going on for very long. Her leaving. We just had her here for Christmas. A glorious week with her and all my littles. Bahbetsie, who is named after her, she just adores. And then bam, Jan 14th. Leukemia. Acute. One to two months.
Cuss words.
Nursing in the dark bawling my eyes out.
Meme and I are kindred spirits. Cut out of the same cloth, a generation apart. She's 90 so I have not been living a delusion that she will see all my babies get married and have their own. I have been very mindful of the time, that it had to be short. But not this short.
But we don't get to choose.
We have alot of life together, me and Meme. I have no regrets. She knows my heart, my life. And last week I got to just tell her. Everything. Just me and her and Bahbetsie. I promised her I would teach Bahbets everything about her. How to dress, accessorize, be classy and cook. Adventurous, always trying new things, sharpening her mind and culture. That is Meme.
Watching my mother let go of her mother is painful, but also a part of life and living.
I am once again deeply thankful and mindful of how blessed I am to have my own little daughter carrying on the heritage we have as strong, independent, loving, resourceful women.
I come from a rich legacy. And that will never die.

Today my little Pitufo is 6 years old. He loves Texas A&M. Obsessed might be a better word. That and gum. I love him and his little genius mind. He is an anomaly that kid. When he was little, he used to say, You are my heart, as a way to say I love you. That is how I feel about him. He is my heart. I love him big. Real big.
So this doesn't count as writing, the kind set out in my 2011 goals, but there it is. For what it is worth.
love,
martha