Sunday, January 22, 2006


I have recently created three accounts at MySpace. Mine originaly was only going to be used to stay in touch with someold school mates and personal friends who are over there but now I have become addicted. MySpace offers alot more than Blogger unfortunately. Not only can you blog, but there is music for your site, comments boxes, messaging, etc... I hope anyone here who is also on MySpace will add me as a friend.

In addition, as most of you know Joe's a musician and is in Acoustic MoJo. I created them an account also because I was able to upload sound clips of them live. Joe also just formed the Joe Arrington Project so just like Acoustic MoJo, I created them an account also for the same reasons.

Again, please feel free to add me if you are already there, and if your not its free to register and way cool. Hope to see you all there!

Monday, January 16, 2006

It's 3 a.m.

This is also posted here.

So at approximately this time, 1 year ago today Joe and I came home from a show Joe had, and Joe found my grandfather dead in the basement..... (they estimated his time of death to be before midnight so that would mean it was the 15th although Joe found him at 3 a.m. the morning of the 16th because it was after midnight)

It all started the night before (or actually the same day of his death - the 15th). Joe and I had just gotten into bed and we heard this horrible, loud thump. We ran to my grandparents bedroom and my grandfather was there on the floor. he wouldnt move, he was unconcious. I remember my heart beating so fast and my just saying "oh my God Joe, Joe Joe...". I thought he was dead. Joe knelt down and got him to come to while I stood in the corner, facing the corner, I was so afraid of what I thought was happening.
Joe sat him up against his bed. He was bleeding from just above his eye. I got a washcloth and peroxide and bandages and tried to patch him up all the while crying and begging him to please let me call an ambulance and trying to keep my grandmother from coming around to that side of the bed and seeing the blood. Grandpa needed stitches but he refused...

I didnt sleep that night. I couldnt, I had been so fightened. I kept checking on him all night. I needed to hear him breathing. At the same time I was furious at him. What everyone knew except my grandmother (we hid it from her), was that grandpa would sit in the basement and drink Gin and Tonic/Orange Juice. You see my grandfather suffered from prostate cancer which he had never had surgery for. Through the years this caused swelling and he had a hard time walking, you add in his drinking and well.... My grandfather fell because he was drunk.

The next day (the 15th) grandpa had a hell of a black eye. I talked with him for a very long time in the basement and told him how he had scared me, how I thought he was indeed dead, to please stop drinking. He held my hand and said he was sorry and that he would stop. He told me he knew I went through alot living there, dealing with my grandmother, he thanked me and said he was proud of me. He loved me. He told me I was his first "real" grandchild (he had step grandchildren from my grandmothers first marriage) and that he had always loved me so much. We talked about when I was a child and the things we did together.

(now back to how I started this entry)...

It is now the evening of the 15th and I am getting ready to leave with Joe to go to his show. I went down to the basement to see if grandpa needed anything. He said no. I told him I'd see him tomorrow and started up the steps. He called out to me "Hey brat".... I looked around the wall and said "yeah"... He said "where's my kiss", I gave him one. He held my hand and reinterated what he said earlier, adding he was very proud of his children, my mother and my uncle. He again told me he loved me and I said I loved him too. He told me my grandmother loved me and not to blame her for the things she would say or do )most of mine and grandpas talks were when I needed to vent or take a break from grandma). I left.

At 11 p.m., I called to check on my grandparents. Grandma answered and said everything was fine, she was in bed, grandpa was in his place, the basement. This didnt seem odd because he would sometimes fall asleep down there.


At 2:40 a.m., we came home.

My grandfather's death changed my life. No one saw how close we had gotten in the 2 years Joe and I lived with my grandparents because they werent around enough. I was there day in and day out and I am so sorry if I failed them in some way. I dont care what anyone else thinks. I know the truth of what was going on in that house (especially with my grandmothers failing mind) and I know I was loved and I know they loved me.

Towards the end, I was bitter. My grandmother was losing her mind and saying the most absurd, horrible things. I felt used, because the whole family had me watching them, me caring for them, I would get yelled at by a certain "Aunt" if I needed to leave or have my time. I needed to hear everything he said to me. I needed to know he knew the truth too, and he did.

I was the last person to speak to him.

I love you. I miss you.... thank you for helping me through my insecurities...

Grandpa, Tell Me 'Bout The Good Old Days

The Judds

Grandpa, tell me ’bout the good old days

Sometimes it feels like this worlds gone crazy

Grandpa, take me back to yesterday

When the line between right and wrong

Didn’t seem so hazy


Did lovers really fall in love to stay

And stand beside each other, come what may

Was a promise really something people kept

Not just something they would say

Did families really bow their heads to pray

Did daddies really never go away

Oh, grandpa, tell me ’bout the good old days

Grandpa, everything is changing fast

We call it progress, but I just don’t know

And grandpa, let’s wander back into the past

And paint me the picture of long ago

(repeat chorus)

Did lovers really fall in love to stay

And stand beside each other come what may

Was a promise really something people kept

Not just something they would say and then forget

Did families really bow their heads to pray

Did daddies really never go away

Oh, grandpa, tell me ’bout the good old days

Oh, grandpa, tell me ’bout the good old days
Mom to 2, Wife to 1...
A diary of my psychotic babblings and daily rants (and raves).
  • Email Me

  • People consist of much more than what appears on the surface. Inside a person is their essence, which transcends everything external. It's who we really are. How people respond to us depends more on what we project than what we actually say and do (or what we look like).

    Some people function on a deeper spiritual level. The spiritual realm is more important than the physical world around us. Everything truly significant has a spiritual basis.