Patricia Anne Wood-Mick: 1924 - 2007

Tomorrow we will be heading to central Iowa. We are going to bury my grandmother. She battled a plethora of cancers over the recent years. She fought hard, but lost the war on Friday night. She died peacefully at home, surrounded by her boys (my three uncles and my dad) and her husband, Bernard (of 59 years).

Abe and I had the privilege of saying good-bye to her last weekend. Though she was tired, she was perfectly clear in her love for us. And though her voice was failing, she told me she was proud of me. I mostly just sat next to her and held her withering hand. But as I walked out of the room for the last time, tears streaming down my face, she belted out a strong and hearty, "Buh, Bye!" It echoes in my soul.

It was the same "Buh, Bye!" that I'd heard thousands of times growing up. You see, of all my dad's brothers, he was the only one that settled down out of town. So we'd have to travel a couple of hours to be with my grandparents. That being the case, we had to say "Buh, Bye" an awful lot. I've been saying "Buh,Bye" to this woman my entire life. And I'm sure that when I was really young, those "Buh, Bye's" stung. But growing up, through the adolescent years and beyond, I became used to them. It was just that time when my grandma would follow me to the curb, remind me to buckle-up, tell me to get some Coke or something to keep awake, warn me to watch out for the "other guy," tell me that she loved me. And as I'd pull away, inevitably with the window down, I would hear her call out, "Buh, Bye!" But it would barely register.

Until last week. She called out and I knew. All the years came rushing back to me. And it stung.

Please pray for my family. My grandmother was incredibly important to us all. Pray especially for my grandpa. I can't even begin to fathom the depth of his loss and the breadth of his grief.

Brandon and Abbey Simpson

Thanks to Jake for this time-waster.

Hello...Are you still there?

Abe recently informed me that she would no longer carry this blog by herself. I am to pull my own weight or it is over. The shop will close, the carpets will be rolled up, and the candles blown out. So I figure that I ought to publish something, as it is the only fair thing to do for our viewing public. For a life without LITGD is hardly a life at all.

Speaking less facetiously about life, you might be wondering about where I have been and why I haven't posted for some time. Well I guess that you could describe my life, as of late, more appropriately as a mere existence than a life truly lived. I'm not sure what's been going on, but I just haven't cared...about anything. My summer, following my summer class, was spent in front of the television. I sank into a world soaked and reeking of the Discovery Channel. And though I now feel like fast friends with Adam and Jamie and the other Mythbusters, I hardly feel as though I am alive.

School is re-acclimating me to the waters of the living. But the process is slow. However this morning I was truly alive. I awoke at 8:15, after sleeping through my alarm, with an hour-and-a-half commute standing in between our sleepy bed and a 9:15 class. With a flurry of arms and legs and a few expletives, I raced to get to class before it was over (that is if you can call crawling traffic a race). I was late, very late, but I was alive like I haven’t felt in a while. There was something about the urgency of it all that may have crash-paddled me back to life.

The semester that lies ahead looks to be challenging, but good. I just hope that I can wake up for it...both literally and figuratively.