Grandma Berta Part 2

Grandma inherited a piece of property from her second husband. When she passed away she left it to my mom. It is a half acre lot of New Mexico desert. A half acre that can't be built upon, because the town in zoned in such a way that you must have 1 acre to build. It is a half acre that has no power lines, sewage pipes or water supply. It is a half acre that can't actually be found unless you pay a surveyor. The funny thing is there are 50,000 other lots just like it. It is clear that someone made money by selling land in New Mexico to people in other parts of the country.... say western PA.

Now I didn't know my grandfather, or my grandmother's second husband, who was the purchaser and purveyor of the property. I have no desire to defame Jim Gumbert for purchasing this property, but there is something about this that just seems to fitting for my grandma's life. A desert. Worthless - apparently, or so the Realtor companies are now telling me over the phone. But it was a hope, because you never know what could happen with magical land out west. Resembling the times of the old west, gold rushes, pioneers..... hopes of a new and enchanted land (which happens to be the state motto).

Funny thing is I think this property has already brought me more joy than it has to anyone else in its existence as a half acre of worthless desert. I don't know why. I am eager to go find it. I wonder what Grandma would think if she knew I wanted to skip work, leave town and find this unmarked property. I can just hear it now.... in a way that only Grandma could talk, scratchy voice from smoke damage, hesitating halfway through her sentences, " Now Matthew..... why would you go and do a thing like that."

Grandma Berta Part 1

My Grandmother passed away last week. She was 87 years old. I hope to pay her a tribute through a series of blogs. We'll see if life will allow me the time and persistence to do that.

Alberta (Berta) Gumbert was born and raised in western PA. She was the product of a hard steel town, living in close proximity to one of it's smoke stacks. The products of the mill combined with her smoking cigarettes didn't do much for her lungs. I have distinct memories of the sooty mill and how the rancid smell gave opportunity to try to blame a bad odor on your little brother.

She lived in a house/gas station/candy store. The old pictures just cry of The Grapes of Wrath. Grandma ran the store while her husband worked the mill. Grandma obviously learned a lot through this, like how to survive in a hard world.

Part of what made Grandma great was her humor. Her omnipresent pessimism and self-deprecation made for some good laughs. About 50% of her humor was truly her personality and about 50% of it seemed to be an attempt at manipulation - the funny thing is that Grandma's life was so complicated from her growing up that you couldn't tell what was manipulative and what she truly believed to be true.

Grandma loved candy, until the day that she died. This gives me hope; I love candy also and I hope I can eat it for another 60 years. But Grandma hoped in more than just another day of spearmint wedges or jelly belly jelly beans. She had a very true and deep hope that galvanized her through hard times.......

Sick.Fever.Teething.......... unhappiness

Isabella has been quite unhappy for a few days. This is the first time she has been truly, truly sick. She has a cold and it is miserable.... for her and us. I can sympathize and empathize with families that I see with sick kids. It is not fun. I have learned that when talking to people about colds you should not say things like, "it is only a cold" or" only a virus" or "it will pass quickly". Some colds are very bad. Some do not pass quickly.
So I am learning about dealing with colds....It is important to make the patient believe that they are experiencing the worst cold that could ever be experienced, in the history of the world. It is important to re-iterate that there is no cure. And it is important to offer something, so that they have hope. Funny thing is none of this actually helps when you are at home miserable with a cold. And we are.... close to miserable. I am post-call and tired. Katie is at her wit's end.
But as they say...... actually, I am not sure what they say about times like this.

She already loves clothes!

These pictures are not from a new camera (don't know when I'll get a new one). These were photos I forgot that I uploaded before I lost it. so, for your pleasure i thought I'd share some of them with you. These were taken a couple of weeks ago; Isabella loves to go into her closet and take all of the clothes out (of anything she can get her hands on) and disperse them around her. Here are the pics and a little video:

So Special

My friend had this on her blog and I had to put it on mine too. It might just make you cry..what a 13 year old boy can teach us. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zCdZwitrNoY
A little something for us all to think about.
~K~

Lost IMPORTANT Item!!

hello friends and family, I sat down today to download photos from the last two weeks and i realized I didn't have my camera card. So, I have just down through our little home and looked everywhere for my camera and I am afraid it is lost. This is not good..i had some really cute pictures of Isabella on there and videos I wanted to share. I also had pictures from our last "trip" up to Kingsville, TX. My friend, Ian, got his wings. I was happy that he thought to ask me to come up there and share that with him and his family. So, Isabella and I went up and stayed the day. The ceremony was very nice--a little low-key (which was nice b/c of Isabella). It was great to see Ian and Joelle. They are doing well and heading up to Va Beach. We hope to see them one more time before they move. If i find my camera i will put some pictures of his winging and of Isabella being cute (as always). You never know maybe this is God's way of giving me a new camera!! We can only hope.
~K~

Skateboarding..... I am too old, but.....

A funny thing happens to me about once a year........ I find myself thinking about skateboarding. An urge comes on that I just can't curb, until I prove to myself that I am not any good at skating and the older I get the closer I get to hurting myself. I guess it is an addiction, because I know it will not end well. My memories are vivid. Ambridge highschool with a large, slanted bank. Pittsburgh Skatepark. Shadyskates in Shadyside. FDR skatepark in Philadelphia, where the likes of Tony Hawk and Bam Margera skate. They have all been the same memories. Hours of obsessions all ending in the same way. Me falling. Me hurting. Me looking silly.

Well, now the stakes are a little higher. Why? I am a doctor at a hospital. A fall and a broken arm would mean many things. Countless, hundreds of explanations to every patient, nurse, passerby etc. I couldn't wear my white coat. And while I am on my surgical rotation this month with a cardiovascular surgeon I could not scrub in, put on sterile gloves, basically.... I could do nothing. Except be mocked.

I knew all this on Sunday as I was distracted in church. And so what choice did I make? Naturally, I went skateboarding.

I found a drainage ditch that is bone dry. Large enough to drive a car through with large, flat steep banks on each side. I swept it clear of soot and rocks. It was quite warm and I worked up a sweat. And then I started to skate. The memories cam back even more vivid as the board flew out from under me feet. I still don't know what I am doing. But there is always 2009.