Can you believe that four short years can take a person from this ...
... to this?
We love you, Riley-Cat!
Thursday, November 8, 2012
Oops
Only seven days into NaBloPoMo and I blew it! Out of sheer forgetfulness, too; I had plenty of time. We had dinner next door to celebrate Riley's fourth birthday, then came home, got the kids in bed, got in bed ourselves and read till we fell asleep. That's my kind of night!
Can you believe that four short years can take a person from this ...
We love you, Riley-Cat!
Can you believe that four short years can take a person from this ...
We love you, Riley-Cat!
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Legacy
We're back from Atlanta and an amazing celebration of Grandpa Loyd's incredibly full, well-lived life. There were some tears at the funeral, of course, but much more laughter, and that's just the way he would have wanted it. Probably a dozen or more people that I didn't know came up to me at the church or cemetery and basically just wanted to say what a wonderful family we have. I absolutely agree.
The pastor knew Grandpa very well and she did a fantastic job with the eulogy. I knew Grandpa had a habit of stopping and talking to his neighbors on his daily jogs around the neighborhood, but I didn't really realize until the funeral service what his visits had meant to many of them. His everyday life seems to have been full of ordinary kindnesses that made a huge impact on his friends. The pastor referenced various neighbors who recalled how he always brought their newspaper to the front porch or moved their garbage can from the curb back to the garage. When neighbors were sick he interrupted his run to check on them, bringing them their mail and refilling their water cups. And he was always quick with a compliment. One neighbor wrote:
"Marvin's visits to our home on his daily walks through Ashford Park were the highlight of our day. Marvin took great interest in his friends in our neighborhood and never forgot a name or story. He was a gifted listener and taught me the importance and reward of taking the time to stop and fellowship with others. He also modeled quiet service and acts of kindness everyday. Our sons learned many valuable lessons about service and friendship through his example. God's light and love shone through him every day. Our family will honor Marvin and his memory by showing God's love to our neighbors."
What a legacy. What an inspiration.
The pastor knew Grandpa very well and she did a fantastic job with the eulogy. I knew Grandpa had a habit of stopping and talking to his neighbors on his daily jogs around the neighborhood, but I didn't really realize until the funeral service what his visits had meant to many of them. His everyday life seems to have been full of ordinary kindnesses that made a huge impact on his friends. The pastor referenced various neighbors who recalled how he always brought their newspaper to the front porch or moved their garbage can from the curb back to the garage. When neighbors were sick he interrupted his run to check on them, bringing them their mail and refilling their water cups. And he was always quick with a compliment. One neighbor wrote:
"Marvin's visits to our home on his daily walks through Ashford Park were the highlight of our day. Marvin took great interest in his friends in our neighborhood and never forgot a name or story. He was a gifted listener and taught me the importance and reward of taking the time to stop and fellowship with others. He also modeled quiet service and acts of kindness everyday. Our sons learned many valuable lessons about service and friendship through his example. God's light and love shone through him every day. Our family will honor Marvin and his memory by showing God's love to our neighbors."
What a legacy. What an inspiration.
Monday, November 5, 2012
Sunday, November 4, 2012
Sleepy
It's been a long day, but a good one. For once we were sort of OK with the kids missing the memo about the extra hour of sleep that most people associate with the end of daylight savings time, because the early morning meant we got on the road at a decent hour without having to rush. We actually only stopped twice -- once for lunch, once for cheap South Carolina gas -- so we were in Atlanta by 3 p.m. and even had time for all four of us to doze before dinner. The DVD player in the car was less life-changing than I expected, but it was useful -- probably bought us at least an hour of relative quiet.
The kids are sound asleep now and we're ready to be too, so I'm signing off. I can't believe when we wake up tomorrow Evan will be 2!
P.S. Grandpa Loyd's obituary is online at http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/atlanta/obituary.aspx?n=marvin-loyd&pid=160803959. The man packed a lot into 98 years.
The kids are sound asleep now and we're ready to be too, so I'm signing off. I can't believe when we wake up tomorrow Evan will be 2!
P.S. Grandpa Loyd's obituary is online at http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/atlanta/obituary.aspx?n=marvin-loyd&pid=160803959. The man packed a lot into 98 years.
Saturday, November 3, 2012
Packing
We're in full-on late-night go-mode here, packing to leave for Atlanta in the morning, but I'm keeping the NaBloPoMo dream alive.
We decided to drive Matt's car this time since it's a little roomier for the long ride, so Matt switched the car seats over while I went through heaps of clean laundry. Then he did something magical: He got the DVD player in his car to work. And then he got the headphones for it to work. Meaning, theoretically, the kids can watch TV in silence for some of the ride.
We bought his car used and the DVD player was broken when we got it and for some reason that we can no longer remember we thought it was a complicated (and/or expensive) fix so we just never messed with it. I sure am glad he took another look tonight. We only have two kids' DVDs ("Happy Feet" and something unopened from a Chick-fil-A kids' meal) but hopefully we can borrow some from our lovely next-door neighbors first thing tomorrow.
Perfect timing, dahling. If we play this right maybe it can even count as Evan's birthday present (he turns 2 on Monday). Score!
We decided to drive Matt's car this time since it's a little roomier for the long ride, so Matt switched the car seats over while I went through heaps of clean laundry. Then he did something magical: He got the DVD player in his car to work. And then he got the headphones for it to work. Meaning, theoretically, the kids can watch TV in silence for some of the ride.
We bought his car used and the DVD player was broken when we got it and for some reason that we can no longer remember we thought it was a complicated (and/or expensive) fix so we just never messed with it. I sure am glad he took another look tonight. We only have two kids' DVDs ("Happy Feet" and something unopened from a Chick-fil-A kids' meal) but hopefully we can borrow some from our lovely next-door neighbors first thing tomorrow.
Perfect timing, dahling. If we play this right maybe it can even count as Evan's birthday present (he turns 2 on Monday). Score!
Friday, November 2, 2012
98
Grandpa Loyd was a grandfather to brag about, and I’ve never
hesitated to do so. Heck, for the past decade or so, his age alone was a point
of pride.
He was a runner – not just your run-of-the-mill jogging retiree, but a racer, and a winner, with walls full of medals, certificates, trophies, plaques and laminated newspaper write-ups to prove it. When I was young, I was amazed at the sheer quantity of race T-shirts he had accumulated, all stored in a spare bedroom. Whenever our family visited, Amanda and I were allowed to pick out a shirt to take home with us.
I was proud of Grandpa Loyd’s participation in the Senior Olympics, not to mention many local races and countless neighborhood jogs. I remember one time he ran a race while our family was in town and we all went to lunch at Shoney’s afterward. Grandpa skipped the “real food” and went straight to the hot-fudge sundae; he’d certainly earned it.
A few years later, as I hit high school and started to self-identify as a runner, he was a great inspiration. When you know your 80-something grandfather is pounding out a 5k a day, you’re more inclined to stick to your own training schedule. And I’ve always felt like I was in some way carrying on a Loyd family tradition by running. If I’m so blessed as to run for the rest of my life, I know it will always remind me of him.
Something else that immediately comes to mind when I think about Grandpa Loyd is what a great conversationalist he was. He was a mile-a-minute, never-met-a-stranger kind of talker, and I loved that about him. Talking with him was always interesting, and I suspect a large part of his secret was that he was interested – in seemingly everything and everyone. Grandpa Loyd knew numerous neighbors thanks to his running and walking habit – not just a face and a first name, but usually a decent chunk of details. They knew him too, and they watched out for him, and they cared about him. The same goes for those who knew him through church, his military service and his favorite restaurants, where he and Grandma Loyd were regulars. Did we ever eat at the Picadilly without someone stopping by our table to chat with him?
I will never forget the time Grandma and Grandpa Loyd were visiting our family and we were all in line at Hardee’s when, Grandpa being Grandpa, he struck up a conversation with the teenage boy in front of him. When the teenager heard Grandpa was from Atlanta, he exclaimed that he knew someone from Atlanta: Ellis Loyd. Grandpa being Grandpa, he replied, “That’s my son!” (The teenager was a Camp Cherokee alum.)
I have many more memories of Grandpa Loyd, from being awed by his “celebrity” car, to him and Grandma dancing in the living room after Christmas parties, to the cheese toast I always looked forward to him making us on the last morning of a visit. He was thrifty and witty and sharp as a tack. He loved his family, and we loved him. I’m so proud and thankful to be his granddaughter.
Marvin Loyd, May 14, 1914-Nov. 1, 2012
He was a runner – not just your run-of-the-mill jogging retiree, but a racer, and a winner, with walls full of medals, certificates, trophies, plaques and laminated newspaper write-ups to prove it. When I was young, I was amazed at the sheer quantity of race T-shirts he had accumulated, all stored in a spare bedroom. Whenever our family visited, Amanda and I were allowed to pick out a shirt to take home with us.
I was proud of Grandpa Loyd’s participation in the Senior Olympics, not to mention many local races and countless neighborhood jogs. I remember one time he ran a race while our family was in town and we all went to lunch at Shoney’s afterward. Grandpa skipped the “real food” and went straight to the hot-fudge sundae; he’d certainly earned it.
A few years later, as I hit high school and started to self-identify as a runner, he was a great inspiration. When you know your 80-something grandfather is pounding out a 5k a day, you’re more inclined to stick to your own training schedule. And I’ve always felt like I was in some way carrying on a Loyd family tradition by running. If I’m so blessed as to run for the rest of my life, I know it will always remind me of him.
Something else that immediately comes to mind when I think about Grandpa Loyd is what a great conversationalist he was. He was a mile-a-minute, never-met-a-stranger kind of talker, and I loved that about him. Talking with him was always interesting, and I suspect a large part of his secret was that he was interested – in seemingly everything and everyone. Grandpa Loyd knew numerous neighbors thanks to his running and walking habit – not just a face and a first name, but usually a decent chunk of details. They knew him too, and they watched out for him, and they cared about him. The same goes for those who knew him through church, his military service and his favorite restaurants, where he and Grandma Loyd were regulars. Did we ever eat at the Picadilly without someone stopping by our table to chat with him?
I will never forget the time Grandma and Grandpa Loyd were visiting our family and we were all in line at Hardee’s when, Grandpa being Grandpa, he struck up a conversation with the teenage boy in front of him. When the teenager heard Grandpa was from Atlanta, he exclaimed that he knew someone from Atlanta: Ellis Loyd. Grandpa being Grandpa, he replied, “That’s my son!” (The teenager was a Camp Cherokee alum.)
I have many more memories of Grandpa Loyd, from being awed by his “celebrity” car, to him and Grandma dancing in the living room after Christmas parties, to the cheese toast I always looked forward to him making us on the last morning of a visit. He was thrifty and witty and sharp as a tack. He loved his family, and we loved him. I’m so proud and thankful to be his granddaughter.
Marvin Loyd, May 14, 1914-Nov. 1, 2012
Thursday, November 1, 2012
NaBloPoMo?
When I was a kid, we didn't go trick-or-treating, per se, since we lived not in a neighborhood but on 10 acres that felt (three decades ago, and from a kid's perspective) like the middle of nowhere. Instead, Halloweens usually consisted of some combination of a church "fall festival" and hopping in the car to make the rounds to grandparents, assorted relatives and family friends. Needless to say, we scored a lot of candy.
Matt's Halloweens growing up were more traditional: Every year he and his brothers met up with a group of friends from his neighborhood and they hit up all the houses in walking distance. Then some of the parents drove them to other neighborhoods, where they piled out and repeated the process. So they ended up with a lot of candy too.
This is the first year both Claire and Evan were old enough to sort of understand the concept of trick-or-treating, so we went for it. We met up with Riley and Reece, plus Parker and Lila, whose parents are friends of ours and Jacob and Carrie's, and whose grandparents also happen to live on our street. Mom and Dad came by beforehand for photo ops and candy delivery, Carrie's mom and sisters joined us for the actual trick-or-treating, and we made our way up and down our street and a couple of others nearby.
I got a kick out of watching our little group race from house to house and door to door. After the first couple of houses, they realized there was no catch -- ring the doorbell, receive candy, move on -- and got a little giddy. And we adults were free to hang back and enjoy the show. The weather was nice, the kids were champs, and afterward, we all grilled hot dogs and dug into the loot. It was a good night.
Matt's Halloweens growing up were more traditional: Every year he and his brothers met up with a group of friends from his neighborhood and they hit up all the houses in walking distance. Then some of the parents drove them to other neighborhoods, where they piled out and repeated the process. So they ended up with a lot of candy too.
This is the first year both Claire and Evan were old enough to sort of understand the concept of trick-or-treating, so we went for it. We met up with Riley and Reece, plus Parker and Lila, whose parents are friends of ours and Jacob and Carrie's, and whose grandparents also happen to live on our street. Mom and Dad came by beforehand for photo ops and candy delivery, Carrie's mom and sisters joined us for the actual trick-or-treating, and we made our way up and down our street and a couple of others nearby.
I got a kick out of watching our little group race from house to house and door to door. After the first couple of houses, they realized there was no catch -- ring the doorbell, receive candy, move on -- and got a little giddy. And we adults were free to hang back and enjoy the show. The weather was nice, the kids were champs, and afterward, we all grilled hot dogs and dug into the loot. It was a good night.
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