Poppy

Hi friends... Just popping in (haha, no pun intended) to ask for some prayers for my Poppy this afternoon...

I realized I've kind-of left you all in the dark about him for a while now - somehow I could just never make a post about hospitals, ear infections, rashes, and nursing homes fit the "tone" of the blog - but I know many of you have come to know and love Poppy through this place over the years, and he could use all the prayers he can get right now...

To make a long (and rather gross) story short, what started as a bad ear infection back in June has turned in to a full-on bone infection of his entire face, and my usually spry and fiesty Poppy is feeling pretty weak and miserable right now.  About a month ago, he had a surgery that we had hoped would bring some relief; but, instead, it has landed him in a rehab/nursing home, and his health continues to decline.  It seems that, in the last six months or so, his body finally realized that he is 95 years old.

Other than some reactions to medication, we are blessed that his mind is still pretty well intact.  He knows us all, and we've been able to have some good conversations and time together over the last few weeks.  It is hard to say how much time we have left - Tuesday, I was convinced that we were saying goodbye, and then yesterday he was awake and dressed and up for a roll down to the common room in the wheelchair.  (Of course, the fact that he is well aware of his physical condition and limitations makes some of that even more difficult too.)

Selfishly, I'm having a harder time than I thought I would seeing his decline.  As someone who talked about dying ALL THE TIME, Poppy made sure we've all known he wouldn't be here forever; but, I don't think I was at all prepared for what the process would look like.  Old age is really hard.

My prayer right now would be, first and foremost, for comfort, peace, and rest for my dear Poppy.  Please pray that this stage will not last long and that - one way or the other - God will provide relief for him.  If you would also keep my sweet mom and the rest of my family in your prayers over these next few days (or weeks/or months), we would really appreciate it.

Thanks for laughing (and crying) with me when I need it.

P.S. Here are some of my favorite Poppy posts from better days:

Poppy and Sam: A Venn Diagram
Poppyisms
Poppy Goes to the Beach
Road Rage
The Poppy That Cried Wolf

Poppy and Sam: A Venn Diagram

Last night, Poppy, Jeff, Sam, and I went to dinner at one of our favorite spots. (I tend to like it especially because they call their buffet a "salad bar" which sounds a lot better than the "mashed potatoes and gravy, macaroni and cheese, hot rolls, and ice cream bar" it really is.) 

Anyway, our 45 minutes together inspired me to create the following Venn Diagram:

 The life cycle really is amazing when you stop and think about it.  You know? ;)

At my parents' house on Poppy's 95th birthday a few weeks ago.  (Sam is "sanitizing.")

See you tomorrow with confessions! (Want to link-up?)

Poppyisms

You guys remember my Poppy, right?

93. Hilarious. (Of course you do, how could anyone forget him?)

I realized recently that I haven't written about him much recently.  But, after spending all day Sunday at the lake with him (and my family), I had quite a few "Poppyisms" I wanted to get down for memory's sake.  Enjoy.

On my pregnancy...

- "You're a real whopper." (Referring to my size of course)

- (in a very private whisper during dinner) "... I've never really talked to a pregnant woman..." (Hello - Your wife?!?! Your daughter?!?!) "...is it, you know, heavy to carry that thing around?"

- "I can't believe you haven't had that baby yet.  You looked like you were ready to pop back in April."

- "What is an old man supposed to do with a baby?"

- "Don't worry Lizzie, you'll be back down to 130 pounds a month from now!"  (For the record, I did not say one word about being worried AND that would be an incredible weight loss - as in, if it happens, someone might need to get me some help. I'm glad he is so optimistic though.)

On the ladies...

- "My cousin called, and she wants to go out to dinner with me again.  I don't mind going out with her.  But, that *Maybelle Carter, she's MAN CRAZY.  I have to stay away from her."  (*Name changed to protect the innocent lady from church who delivered brownies last week.)

- "The only thing a woman would want with a man my age is my money.  I'd have to get one of those... what do you call them... nuptials."

- "I called up *Mabel Smith to ask her something and I said 'Mabel, what are you doing tonight?  Would you like to go on a date?'  I was just kidding of course, but I think she thought I was being serious."  (Bad joke... at any age!)

And just because it is worth sharing...

- "Elizabeth, I just became a tornado survivor. You wouldn't believe it.  I almost didn't make it."  (On the phone this afternoon after a particularly bad storm that knocked down a tree in his yard.)

P.S. Saturday was the two year anniversary of his hilarious heart attack (I know that's not really an appropriate term to describe heart attacks... but you should read about it here.)

Poppy Goes to the Beach

I'm sure one day these will all be very special memories for us of our time at the beach with Poppy!

Monday:

 Tuesday:

Wednesday: 

Thursday:

Friday:

Beach Trip: Day 1

Well, I'm officially "O-V" (that's the term my dad coined for 'On Vacation'). 

On Sunday, at approximately 8AM, my parents, grandparents, uncle, sister & I loaded up the mini-van and Poppy's Taurus for the seven hour drive to Pawleys Island, South Carolina.  The drive went rather well - especially considering that Poppy and Kathryn had been fighting about what car I would ride in for three days prior.  (I ended up riding with Kathryn because, ultimately, I'm going to do have to deal with her wrath longer.)

Upon our arrival, Poppy & Granny promptly claimed the master bedroom - i.e. the only room with a king bed - while the rest of us crowd into the three remaining double beds.  (Jeff is at home working for the week,so Kathryn is my cuddle-mate!  We figured out today that this is the first trip we've taken with no boyfriends/husbands in eight years.)

Poppy & Granny have announced that they plan to spend the week watching television in the air conditioning because it is just too hot out for them.  So far, they've accomplished this goal. Currently, Poppy is watching belly-dancing with the volume up entirely TOO loud.   Later, he will sit on the side of the porch with a nice view of construction and watch the builders.  Of course, because we would want to look at the ocean?!?

Apparently, everyone is very worried about me because I "don't handle the sun well."  Um... have then seen my spray tan?!? I am a greek goddess!  Too bad I don't have my dad's condition:" Michael won't burn.  He has way too much hair on his chest." -Poppy.

Kathryn and Poppy have carried their fighting into the trip.  (This absolutely cracks me up because it isn't every day you see a 24 year old and a 92 year old arguing.)  Poppy won't really do anything with Kathryn - including sitting next to her at dinner.  BUT, he did ask her to go on a helicopter ride with him over the island later this week.  Kathryn is slightly nervous about his intentions regarding this request.

Finally, there is a man on the beach sporting a very small speedo bathing suit.  This wouldn't be quite so awkward if he wasn't my uncle.  He actually wore a regular suit down to the beach, then, stripped down and left his trunks just sitting next to my dad on the sand.  I can only imagine how this appeared!

The plan for tonight? My famous enchiladas and a nice family game of Smart Ass.  (Of course!) 

As you can see, we is no shortage of fun and hilariousness! I'm sure I'll have plenty more to update later! 

Road Rage

I honestly did not set out to make this blog "The Poppy Chronicles" - however, I'm sure one day it will be a treasure to have all these memories written down. So... without further adieu, I bring you: ROAD RAGE.

To set the scene...

THIS is what Poppy was wearing when I showed up to take him to his doctor's appointment yesterday. Not only was it plaid-on-plaid (a HUGE fashion no-no), but the shirt was stained and he had missed a few buttons at the bottom. After he told me my shirt made me look "PG" (which means pregnant - awesome), I finally convinced him to change clothes before we left.

Later, on the way home, a white mini-van cut me off in the turning lane and I had to slam on my breaks to avoid hitting it. I, being an awful driver myself, wasn't really phased by this. Poppy, however, was FURIOUS. Immediately he began mumbling about terrible women drivers and literally INSISTED that I pull up next to this derelict driver. (You do NOT argue with an old man... it isn't worth the energy.)

Upon doing this, we realize the the driver is, in fact, an old lady. She can barely see over the steering wheel and has a handicapped sign dangling from her rear view mirror. This, in itself, was plenty of reason for me to forgive and drive on. But Poppy - without warning - began BANGING on my passenger window, pointing his finger at the lady, and yelling crazily at her. Awesome.

I drove off as fast as I could, but I am haunted this morning by the trauma we must have caused this poor little lady. So - if any of you know a white mini-van driving granny in the Roanoke area... please express my deepest apologies for my cranky Poppy. There is just no controlling him!

Until next time...

Oh Poppy

It must be nice to be 91 and be able to say anything you want.

Today:
"Elizabeth, I told you you would get hurt. You have to be healthy and in shape to play sports" - on my kickball accident.

"Little ole Kathryn looked so nice last night. She was wearing a blouse that buttoned up, and she wasn't exposed at all. I think she did it, you know, for the old people" - on my sister's clothing choice for the family reunion dinner at the Roanoker.

"At my age, the only thing I need to buy is an urn to put my ashes in... Come to think of it, I have an old can my sister used to be in. We can just use that." - on why he didn't want to check out the sale at the local men's clothing store.

You just never know what you are going to get!

The Poppy that Cried Wolf

If you know me at all, you know that I am absolutely crazy about my 91 year old grandfather, Poppy. And, if you know him at all, you know that he is a little bit cranky and can't wait to die. I realize that this sounds terrible, but it is really true.

Exhibit A: In elementary school, Poppy promised me a trip to Disney World when I turned thirteen if he was "still alive." Well, folks... He is STILL kicking to this day & I've STILL never been to the most magical place on earth. :)

Exhibit B: One of Poppy's favorite Sunday afternoon activities is to have someone drive him out to his burial plot so that he can daydream about going there. This is not a lie.

All joking aside, I've kind-of grown up talking about when Poppy dies. At least once every visit, he makes some comment about his latest ailment that is - this time - sure to kill him. So... it was no surprise that on Thursday when he started complaining of chest pains, we didn't take it too seriously.

Last Thursday morning, I took Granny to a doctor's appointment with her oncologist. (Side Note: Poppy is as healthy as an ox; Granny really is a sick and wouldn't complain if her life depended on it.) Right in the middle of discussing the doctor's information, Poppy starts grabbing his chest and complaining of heartburn. At this point, Granny said "Oh, give me a break Kent" and left the room.

A few minutes passed, and Poppy sat in his recliner moaning a little while Granny worked the crossword puzzle and asked Poppy for help spelling the word "cherub." Ironic, considering his hope for an early encounter with one of these heavenly creatures.

Long story short, while we sat there going on with our business, Poppy actually had a heart attack. Who would've guessed it?! Eventually we decided to take him to the ER, where he made all sorts of demands about a CD that would mature on Monday, something that needed to be mailed if he died, and that under absolutely NO circumstances would he have any form of surgery or life support. Later, however, when the doctor said "Mr. Martin, we are going to have to operate to place a stint in your heart, is that ok?" Poppy's IMMEDIATE response was, "Of course, whatever it takes." Hmmm...

Poppy spent three nights in the hospital where he flirted with all the nurses, peed in a jug (that he brought home to water the plants with, I might add), and soaked up everyone's comments about how good he looks for his age. It has been a whirlwind last few days, but today, Poppy is home and healthy. That is one strong old man!


Love you Pop!