Short backstory. High school Anna did not like being given superfluous work, and often took a sarcastic approach if it was forced upon her. For instance, our class was a trial for the Ohio Graduation Test, wasting a cumulative 10 hours of my week, so I wrote my essay on my dream about being a stripper. Unfortunately, that gem wasn't saved, but my mother passed this AP English prep assignment my way.
The teacher's feedback: "You are an excellent writer. The AP graders may question your choice of hero."
Elle Woods, a distinguished attorney of law and a politician, is the protagonist of Legally Blonde. More than that, she is a prime example of the discrimination that blondes face and the overcoming of the "dumb blonde" stigma. Elle Woods is someone I would like to emulate because she is a great woman on many levels.
First and foremost, she has long blonde hair. Though years of dying have made my hair unmistakeably blonde, it has not yet grown past the foot mark. Many an hour have I spent lusting over such luscious locks, only to find that when I look in the mirror, my hair is still at the top of my shoulder blades. I can only continue to envy the voluptuous hair and hope that mine will achieve its greatness.
Elle Woods also has a superb sense of fashion and the bank account to afford it. Growing up in Belair, she never had an issue with money. She has indeed put that money to good use. Her shimmering high heels, glamorous gowns, and even her fitness gear are red-carpet worthy. Never is she seen looking down, but dresses, rather over dresses, for every occasion. Her bold fashion sense allows her to go places most people dare not go.
Not only is Woods bold enough to stand out, she is bold enough to prove the dumb blonde stereotype wrong. Nearly everywhere she goes, people try to take advantage of her, thinking that since she is a gorgeous blonde, she must be foolish. Proving their assumptions amiss, Woods never falls into their trickery. She works very hard to make it into law school, and once there, she is taken as a joke. Determined once again to go against the stereotype, she rises to greatness by clearing an innocent woman convicted of murder. In fact, she clinches her victory and place of respect due to her knowledge of cosmetology and fashion.
Elle Woods is an inspiration to me as a blonde. I understand the persecution one goes through with blonde hair, a nice pair of shoes, and a cute outfit. Like Woods, I am determined to prove the assumptions wrong and will rise above the odds to earn my respect. Like Woods, I will hold my blonde head high.
Wednesday, September 28, 2016
Friday, September 23, 2016
My 28 Thoughts
Hello! In what has quickly become my favorite birthday tradition, I am going to use this day to give you a window into my head and share 28 thoughts. Perhaps one to grow on. Since 28 is an overall unexciting number, I will make my thoughts interesting. Confessions, shortcomings, musings, sidenotes. What a delicious treat for everyone.
1. Let's start with my current location, my favorite spot in Ann Arbor - my little porch. I spend as much time here as possible, soaking in the late summer - now fall!!! - air, watching the earnest students pass, contemplating climbing the tree.
2. I've been reading a chapter of Ernest Hemingway's book each night. Turns out, the book is more than an accessory. It's been so savory, and for ten minutes, I'm beside him as he wanders the streets of Paris, unsure of what his future holds, but knowing he's where he's supposed to be. I love a good coming of age memoir.
3. Then I glance at the big oak tree* and am taken back to the days when I sat in our crab apple tree and wrote stories about bunnies and thought about my future playing tennis and living in New York.
4. I consider this blog my own coming of age tale. How cool will it be to look back in 25 years and see the beautiful tapestry that was woven? And how lucky will the world be to have 25 years of my musings?
5. Then I snap out of it and go do stats homework.
6. Stats is currently my worst class, and I don't think it's a coincidence that I sit in the back. I can't help but scan the classroom, attempt to make awkward eye contact with people - which is oddly difficult - try to guess what their Tinder profile song would be. The sweet little man is speeding through binomial distribution in his Indian accent and I'm having an internal debate on whether the guy across the room would go with rock, rap, or pop. He's definitely choosing a Beebs song.
7. Tinder profile song. It's a thing. Apparently Spotify and Tinder have recently partnered so you can judge others on their musical preferences. What's better though, is that you get to choose your profile song. We all know I've thought a lot about my batter walk up song, but this is a whole new market. How do I want to present myself? Gunpowder and Lead probably not going to work. Maybe a classic oldies: Signed, Sealed, Delivered. That might put off a strong marriage vibe, though. Or Closer because I'm unabashedly obsessed with that song.
8. I don't have Tinder, so it's really a moot point. I'm sure your wondering about my dating life. Don't worry, all you gents holding out, waiting until I make my millions, I'm still on the market. My previous prediction that my dating life would see success when Cleveland sports gained a championship was apparently incorrect.
9. I saw an eHarmony commercial the other day with a woman who was in her late twenties, stating she wanted to meet someone organically. She ends up alone at age 75, wishing she had online dated. Then I had a dream I had cats.
10. Well, eHarmony, I still think I can meet someone organically, and if I am single and 75, I will redefine cougar.
11. Back to stats and my shortcomings. For everyone who assumes I'm perfect, I have a couple more shortcomings to share with you:
12. I never know how to get rid of condensation on my window. I get that you use the defrost in the winter, but on humid mornings, I try cold air, hot air, and end up running my windshield wipers every five seconds.
13. I don't cry when animals die. I don't see this as a shortcoming, but others might.
14. I get random chin hairs. And one random neck hair that is suddenly an inch long.
15. I've recently switched my workout routine to 6 am and realized I'm not great at accepting coaching cues that early in the morning.
16. I'm at risk for ODing on gummy vitamins. Trader Joe's, how do you make Vitamin K so tasty? My worst case was about twenty, and I started to doubt the vitamins' efficacy, because this didn't affect the color of my pee at all.
17. Speaking of the bathroom, I wonder if I have to go to the bathroom, and I drink water, how long does it take the water to effect me? Do I have to go to the bathroom more after the drink of water, or is it pretty inconsequential?
18. I'm currently listening to the National, and it takes me back to my first fall in Charlottesville. The year I embraced indie music. And the Avett Brothers at the Pavillion. Besides the people, Charlottesville's music scene is what I miss the most. I don't think a music venue will ever replace the Pavillion in my heart.
19. A couple guys just passed in suits. Probably going to a ibanking or consulting presentation. I have no interest in either of those, but I do love a man in a suit. Probably best I don't pursue the professions - my mouth would hang open in the office a lot.
20. Another guy just passed on a skateboard. I'm considering adding a skateboard to my look. I think it would give me a certain level of street cred, and I'm always looking for ways to enhance street cred.
21. I have to work on my resume today, and there are a couple strengths I wish I could emphasize:
22. I'm an excellent napper.
23. My high five game is tight. Real tight.
24. I am exceptional at recognizing hair cuts. Probably because my sisters and I would compete to see who noticed my dad's haircut first.
25. I can turn anything into a competition - as evidenced by the previous statement.
26. I have a unique ability to generate extremely awkward stories.
To close - a couple confessions:
27. I stole a pair of sunglasses from CVS. I think. They didn't have a tag or sticker, and I didn't ask for the receipt. When I left, I realized my merch likely exceeded the total I paid. But we all know my feelings about CVS, so I have little remorse.
28. This is a juicy one. Remember the chicken sausage? The one I thought was stolen from the RKG fridge, at which point I sent a company email calling said thief out. I may have found it in the back of the fridge two weeks later. I still hold the thief returned the chicken sausage in a fit of shame after the email, but it's entirely possible I erred. Wow. Feels good to get that off my chest.
And one to grow on:
It's finally fall! The best season of the year, where everything feels alive in the midst of dying, the world is magical, and anything is possible. Year 27 was pretty epic, especially because I only worked two months of it. I have a good feeling about year 28, too.
*I don't know if it's an oak tree. Seems right, though.
1. Let's start with my current location, my favorite spot in Ann Arbor - my little porch. I spend as much time here as possible, soaking in the late summer - now fall!!! - air, watching the earnest students pass, contemplating climbing the tree.
2. I've been reading a chapter of Ernest Hemingway's book each night. Turns out, the book is more than an accessory. It's been so savory, and for ten minutes, I'm beside him as he wanders the streets of Paris, unsure of what his future holds, but knowing he's where he's supposed to be. I love a good coming of age memoir.
3. Then I glance at the big oak tree* and am taken back to the days when I sat in our crab apple tree and wrote stories about bunnies and thought about my future playing tennis and living in New York.
4. I consider this blog my own coming of age tale. How cool will it be to look back in 25 years and see the beautiful tapestry that was woven? And how lucky will the world be to have 25 years of my musings?
5. Then I snap out of it and go do stats homework.
6. Stats is currently my worst class, and I don't think it's a coincidence that I sit in the back. I can't help but scan the classroom, attempt to make awkward eye contact with people - which is oddly difficult - try to guess what their Tinder profile song would be. The sweet little man is speeding through binomial distribution in his Indian accent and I'm having an internal debate on whether the guy across the room would go with rock, rap, or pop. He's definitely choosing a Beebs song.
7. Tinder profile song. It's a thing. Apparently Spotify and Tinder have recently partnered so you can judge others on their musical preferences. What's better though, is that you get to choose your profile song. We all know I've thought a lot about my batter walk up song, but this is a whole new market. How do I want to present myself? Gunpowder and Lead probably not going to work. Maybe a classic oldies: Signed, Sealed, Delivered. That might put off a strong marriage vibe, though. Or Closer because I'm unabashedly obsessed with that song.
8. I don't have Tinder, so it's really a moot point. I'm sure your wondering about my dating life. Don't worry, all you gents holding out, waiting until I make my millions, I'm still on the market. My previous prediction that my dating life would see success when Cleveland sports gained a championship was apparently incorrect.
9. I saw an eHarmony commercial the other day with a woman who was in her late twenties, stating she wanted to meet someone organically. She ends up alone at age 75, wishing she had online dated. Then I had a dream I had cats.
10. Well, eHarmony, I still think I can meet someone organically, and if I am single and 75, I will redefine cougar.
11. Back to stats and my shortcomings. For everyone who assumes I'm perfect, I have a couple more shortcomings to share with you:
12. I never know how to get rid of condensation on my window. I get that you use the defrost in the winter, but on humid mornings, I try cold air, hot air, and end up running my windshield wipers every five seconds.
13. I don't cry when animals die. I don't see this as a shortcoming, but others might.
14. I get random chin hairs. And one random neck hair that is suddenly an inch long.
15. I've recently switched my workout routine to 6 am and realized I'm not great at accepting coaching cues that early in the morning.
16. I'm at risk for ODing on gummy vitamins. Trader Joe's, how do you make Vitamin K so tasty? My worst case was about twenty, and I started to doubt the vitamins' efficacy, because this didn't affect the color of my pee at all.
17. Speaking of the bathroom, I wonder if I have to go to the bathroom, and I drink water, how long does it take the water to effect me? Do I have to go to the bathroom more after the drink of water, or is it pretty inconsequential?
18. I'm currently listening to the National, and it takes me back to my first fall in Charlottesville. The year I embraced indie music. And the Avett Brothers at the Pavillion. Besides the people, Charlottesville's music scene is what I miss the most. I don't think a music venue will ever replace the Pavillion in my heart.
19. A couple guys just passed in suits. Probably going to a ibanking or consulting presentation. I have no interest in either of those, but I do love a man in a suit. Probably best I don't pursue the professions - my mouth would hang open in the office a lot.
20. Another guy just passed on a skateboard. I'm considering adding a skateboard to my look. I think it would give me a certain level of street cred, and I'm always looking for ways to enhance street cred.
21. I have to work on my resume today, and there are a couple strengths I wish I could emphasize:
22. I'm an excellent napper.
23. My high five game is tight. Real tight.
24. I am exceptional at recognizing hair cuts. Probably because my sisters and I would compete to see who noticed my dad's haircut first.
25. I can turn anything into a competition - as evidenced by the previous statement.
26. I have a unique ability to generate extremely awkward stories.
To close - a couple confessions:
27. I stole a pair of sunglasses from CVS. I think. They didn't have a tag or sticker, and I didn't ask for the receipt. When I left, I realized my merch likely exceeded the total I paid. But we all know my feelings about CVS, so I have little remorse.
28. This is a juicy one. Remember the chicken sausage? The one I thought was stolen from the RKG fridge, at which point I sent a company email calling said thief out. I may have found it in the back of the fridge two weeks later. I still hold the thief returned the chicken sausage in a fit of shame after the email, but it's entirely possible I erred. Wow. Feels good to get that off my chest.
And one to grow on:
It's finally fall! The best season of the year, where everything feels alive in the midst of dying, the world is magical, and anything is possible. Year 27 was pretty epic, especially because I only worked two months of it. I have a good feeling about year 28, too.
*I don't know if it's an oak tree. Seems right, though.
Sunday, September 18, 2016
Is Business School Stressful?
Short answer. No. At least not yet. But we all know I'm not giving the short answer.
First. New grad school rule: no getting below parallel while dancing in broad daylight. In my defense, they were playing Drop It Low, so I don't see how I had much of a choice. Still, save it for the club, Anna. Speaking of my name, I've been regretting the fact that I didn't redefine myself as Ana Navatsyk, the blonde, exotic Polack. God, I would have been so hot.
Two weeks into classes, I feel quite settled, save a few kinks. I still have to establish a reliable bookbag pocket system. Do I put my keys in the front pocket with the calculator or the middle with my snacks? Or do I put them in the side pocket where they are easily accessible but risk being dropped. And my cell phone? Should it be up front or in a pocket within a pocket? My headphones? I thought they were lost this past week until I found them hiding in some obscure compartment.
I still don't have my binders. I was very excited to use Amazon one-click, but in my enthusiasm did not change my default credit card, so now, some lucky individual at 11 Altamont Circle has binders, and I have paper all over my floor. I don't mind buying more, though, because I got my deposit check from my apartment back this week and am practically rolling in the dough.
Classes are interesting: applied microeconomics, strategy, financial accounting and statistics. The accounting and stats classes are made more interesting by the prof's* accent, so hopefully I'll stay awake more than I did in college. Potential business: accented audiobooks. Household Chores narrated by Edward, the Brit. Learning how to clean the toilet has never been so sexy.
I applied to the social venture fund and was rejected. It's true - even I get rejected occasionally, but I don't think my heart was really in the application. I should only apply when my heart is committed.
Companies have started visiting campus, and I talked with Ford this week about a marketing rotational program that gives you exposure to three different strategic areas of marketing over time. You know the drill: networking, oozing intelligence. Afterward, of course, I followed the golden rule: thank you notes. Thankfully, years of Grandma Tippit threatening to stop giving us birthday money if we didn't write a thank you note has prepared me for such a time as this. I shot off an email to everyone I talked to during their work hours so as not to be disruptive. I received a response with a question on Saturday, though, and I wasn't sure if I should respond on Saturday or wait until Monday morning. Etiquette is tricky.
I had a consultation to review my communication style and efficacy. It's confirmed. I'm an amazing communicator. I also made the three hour trip to Cleveland Thursday night to have a coffee with a man entrenched in the Cleveland sports industry, and immediately return to finish a group project. The trip was totally worth it, though, if only because I had dinner with my parents and met Greg Pruitt, an apparent Browns legend.
Saturday was another game day, which meant another day of revelry, chanting, pretending I am in college again, only to be harshly reminded this morning, that, no, I am not 21. In fact, I will be 28 this Friday!
Once again, my fantasy team caused me the most angst. I made some good moves this week and was feeling pretty confident after a strong performance Thursday night, but yelled in the Trader Joe's checkout line when I saw that Coleman, the Browns wide receiver who I didn't start because, well, the Browns are the Browns, scored 26 points warming my bench. And they still lost. Very Browns of them.
So. The burning question to which everyone seems to expect the answer to be yes - is it stressful? I can't help but think I have different stress triggers than some.
Feeling wasted at your job. Working for a boss who doesn't trust you. That's stressful. But this. This is why I'm here. I get to take two years out of my life to learn, meet smart, kind people* and explore different areas where I can make an impact. What a very rare and exciting privilege.*
Instead of stress, I have felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude this week. For a dad who proudly introduces me as going to Michigan for my MBA and tells me what an accomplishment that is. For a mom who constantly shares her wisdom and encouragement. For family - man, I'm so grateful for my family. For people who have made this transition that I was somewhat dreading so very easy. And for the chance to define my future.
It's possible I'll be stressed at some point this year, but for now, I'm going to go watch Jordy Nelson lead the Sugga Momma Bears to a week two victory.
Signing off,
Ana
* When my sister first went to college, we made fun of her because she started using words like prof and drinking coffee.
* Still no d-bags!
* Plus, I'm not working 25 hours a week at a restaurant this time around.
First. New grad school rule: no getting below parallel while dancing in broad daylight. In my defense, they were playing Drop It Low, so I don't see how I had much of a choice. Still, save it for the club, Anna. Speaking of my name, I've been regretting the fact that I didn't redefine myself as Ana Navatsyk, the blonde, exotic Polack. God, I would have been so hot.
Two weeks into classes, I feel quite settled, save a few kinks. I still have to establish a reliable bookbag pocket system. Do I put my keys in the front pocket with the calculator or the middle with my snacks? Or do I put them in the side pocket where they are easily accessible but risk being dropped. And my cell phone? Should it be up front or in a pocket within a pocket? My headphones? I thought they were lost this past week until I found them hiding in some obscure compartment.
I still don't have my binders. I was very excited to use Amazon one-click, but in my enthusiasm did not change my default credit card, so now, some lucky individual at 11 Altamont Circle has binders, and I have paper all over my floor. I don't mind buying more, though, because I got my deposit check from my apartment back this week and am practically rolling in the dough.
Classes are interesting: applied microeconomics, strategy, financial accounting and statistics. The accounting and stats classes are made more interesting by the prof's* accent, so hopefully I'll stay awake more than I did in college. Potential business: accented audiobooks. Household Chores narrated by Edward, the Brit. Learning how to clean the toilet has never been so sexy.
I applied to the social venture fund and was rejected. It's true - even I get rejected occasionally, but I don't think my heart was really in the application. I should only apply when my heart is committed.
Companies have started visiting campus, and I talked with Ford this week about a marketing rotational program that gives you exposure to three different strategic areas of marketing over time. You know the drill: networking, oozing intelligence. Afterward, of course, I followed the golden rule: thank you notes. Thankfully, years of Grandma Tippit threatening to stop giving us birthday money if we didn't write a thank you note has prepared me for such a time as this. I shot off an email to everyone I talked to during their work hours so as not to be disruptive. I received a response with a question on Saturday, though, and I wasn't sure if I should respond on Saturday or wait until Monday morning. Etiquette is tricky.
I had a consultation to review my communication style and efficacy. It's confirmed. I'm an amazing communicator. I also made the three hour trip to Cleveland Thursday night to have a coffee with a man entrenched in the Cleveland sports industry, and immediately return to finish a group project. The trip was totally worth it, though, if only because I had dinner with my parents and met Greg Pruitt, an apparent Browns legend.
Saturday was another game day, which meant another day of revelry, chanting, pretending I am in college again, only to be harshly reminded this morning, that, no, I am not 21. In fact, I will be 28 this Friday!
Once again, my fantasy team caused me the most angst. I made some good moves this week and was feeling pretty confident after a strong performance Thursday night, but yelled in the Trader Joe's checkout line when I saw that Coleman, the Browns wide receiver who I didn't start because, well, the Browns are the Browns, scored 26 points warming my bench. And they still lost. Very Browns of them.
So. The burning question to which everyone seems to expect the answer to be yes - is it stressful? I can't help but think I have different stress triggers than some.
Feeling wasted at your job. Working for a boss who doesn't trust you. That's stressful. But this. This is why I'm here. I get to take two years out of my life to learn, meet smart, kind people* and explore different areas where I can make an impact. What a very rare and exciting privilege.*
Instead of stress, I have felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude this week. For a dad who proudly introduces me as going to Michigan for my MBA and tells me what an accomplishment that is. For a mom who constantly shares her wisdom and encouragement. For family - man, I'm so grateful for my family. For people who have made this transition that I was somewhat dreading so very easy. And for the chance to define my future.
It's possible I'll be stressed at some point this year, but for now, I'm going to go watch Jordy Nelson lead the Sugga Momma Bears to a week two victory.
Signing off,
Ana
* When my sister first went to college, we made fun of her because she started using words like prof and drinking coffee.
* Still no d-bags!
* Plus, I'm not working 25 hours a week at a restaurant this time around.
Thursday, September 8, 2016
A Letter to Pappy
Tuesday morning, I packed my book bag and made the five minute walk to my eighteenth first day of school. Isn't it crazy? You were only able to finish high school - I forget whether or not the war kept you from graduating - and I have the opportunity to pursue a master's. I'm going to Michigan, but please don't hate me. I will never forget my roots.
I chose a casual chic look the first day, classy the second, and capped the week with a hint of Bohemian. Solid lineup. I entered class and looked for my assigned seat, hoping I would sit next to that dream boat. Then I remembered Luke Bryan decided to pursue country music instead of his MBA, so that wasn't possible. I wished they had sent a school supplies list because I found myself ill prepared without binders. Throughout the lectures, I struck a balance between not speaking and asking inane questions that drive the conversation nowhere and elicit eye rolls. I also tried not to roll my eyes. I did wake up anxious this morning, but that was because I knew I shouldn't have passed on Deandre Hopkins for a running back in the first round of a PPR* fantasy league. Rookie move, Sugga Momma Bears*.
Most of my classmates are at the local watering hole for the weekly drink special, but I've been thinking about you and wanted to write. Plus, I'm finishing a Netflix documentary on JuCo football, and the MBA games are tomorrow, so I need my rest to be at peak performance.* And the first NFL game is tonight. Welcome to another season of Browns mediocrity. Sixteen years after you passed, it's still a building a year.
I visited the cemetery the other day to catch up with Stephen, and as I was chatting, I realized I don't often talk to you when I'm there. Maybe it's because Stephen was my brother or maybe it's because his grave is easier to find, but I wanted to stop by today and say thank you.
I went to Woodstock last weekend, Aunt DeeDee's annual party that has grown to include most of Chardon and half the surrounding counties. Much of our rapidly expanding family* was there, including Briella, my eight year old niece.
I see myself in her, running to her gramps for a big belly hug and his hearty laugh. It's weird to think that I was her age when you were diagnosed with cancer. I'm so glad I was able to spend those hot summer nights watching baseball with you and grandma. I remember one night in particular, your body was growing frail and you were leaning over as grandma tended one of the injection wounds. You were looking at the ground with a hint of sadness, but when you saw that I was watching, you got that glimmer in your eye and flashed a reassuring smile. I only remember you smiling, no matter how knobby your knees were, or how black and blue your arm was. Maybe it's because I was young, and that's all I want to remember, but maybe it's because that's all you wanted me to remember.
You're probably wondering what I'm going to do with a fancy degree. I plan to do something great, but great is defined in so many ways. What you did, pappy - moving your family, supporting them on the little you made so they could have better, instilling values that enabled them to build strong families, and filling your home with joy and love - that was great. I recognize it's rare, and I don't take it for granted.* If I have a legacy as strong as that, well, I would consider my life a great success.
I can't wait until the day we can share a couple beers, but for now, thank you for being such a big part of the short time I knew you. Even in your absence, I hold tightly to what you taught me about fighting, about family, about love and sacrifice, and I hope that when you look down on occasion and see me, you smile.
* Points per reception
* My team name, which I thought appropriate because I am the only female. Also, you will notice it is a before and after, a classic Wheel of Fortune puzzle that I appreciate from all those nights watching it with you and gram.
* I probably have some homework I could do, too.
* You have 26 great grand children!
* Despite what grandma says, not everyone in my generation is entitled.
I chose a casual chic look the first day, classy the second, and capped the week with a hint of Bohemian. Solid lineup. I entered class and looked for my assigned seat, hoping I would sit next to that dream boat. Then I remembered Luke Bryan decided to pursue country music instead of his MBA, so that wasn't possible. I wished they had sent a school supplies list because I found myself ill prepared without binders. Throughout the lectures, I struck a balance between not speaking and asking inane questions that drive the conversation nowhere and elicit eye rolls. I also tried not to roll my eyes. I did wake up anxious this morning, but that was because I knew I shouldn't have passed on Deandre Hopkins for a running back in the first round of a PPR* fantasy league. Rookie move, Sugga Momma Bears*.
Most of my classmates are at the local watering hole for the weekly drink special, but I've been thinking about you and wanted to write. Plus, I'm finishing a Netflix documentary on JuCo football, and the MBA games are tomorrow, so I need my rest to be at peak performance.* And the first NFL game is tonight. Welcome to another season of Browns mediocrity. Sixteen years after you passed, it's still a building a year.
I visited the cemetery the other day to catch up with Stephen, and as I was chatting, I realized I don't often talk to you when I'm there. Maybe it's because Stephen was my brother or maybe it's because his grave is easier to find, but I wanted to stop by today and say thank you.
I went to Woodstock last weekend, Aunt DeeDee's annual party that has grown to include most of Chardon and half the surrounding counties. Much of our rapidly expanding family* was there, including Briella, my eight year old niece.
I see myself in her, running to her gramps for a big belly hug and his hearty laugh. It's weird to think that I was her age when you were diagnosed with cancer. I'm so glad I was able to spend those hot summer nights watching baseball with you and grandma. I remember one night in particular, your body was growing frail and you were leaning over as grandma tended one of the injection wounds. You were looking at the ground with a hint of sadness, but when you saw that I was watching, you got that glimmer in your eye and flashed a reassuring smile. I only remember you smiling, no matter how knobby your knees were, or how black and blue your arm was. Maybe it's because I was young, and that's all I want to remember, but maybe it's because that's all you wanted me to remember.
You're probably wondering what I'm going to do with a fancy degree. I plan to do something great, but great is defined in so many ways. What you did, pappy - moving your family, supporting them on the little you made so they could have better, instilling values that enabled them to build strong families, and filling your home with joy and love - that was great. I recognize it's rare, and I don't take it for granted.* If I have a legacy as strong as that, well, I would consider my life a great success.
I can't wait until the day we can share a couple beers, but for now, thank you for being such a big part of the short time I knew you. Even in your absence, I hold tightly to what you taught me about fighting, about family, about love and sacrifice, and I hope that when you look down on occasion and see me, you smile.
* Points per reception
* My team name, which I thought appropriate because I am the only female. Also, you will notice it is a before and after, a classic Wheel of Fortune puzzle that I appreciate from all those nights watching it with you and gram.
* I probably have some homework I could do, too.
* You have 26 great grand children!
* Despite what grandma says, not everyone in my generation is entitled.
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