From our family to yours . . . Happy Easter weekend!

I’m off for a 4 day weekend.  Me, my boys, and our newly acquired egg-family will be enjoying copious amount of turkey, and possibly some chocolate.  I might even get some yard work done and maybe even a little relaxing (fingers crossed!).

(look at the intense concentration on The Youngest’s face – he’s taking this task VERY seriously)

Enjoy your time with friends and family.  Be they eggs or not.

The phone rang at 6am yesterday morning.  Which is always unexpected and immediately followed by a rude awakening, rapidly increased heartbeat, and often a stubbed toe.  But I ran to answer it nonetheless.

It was my Mom, calling to tell me my Brother had just called her.  My only Brother.  Actually, my only sibling.  Whose wife was expecting their first baby.  A baby that was scheduled to make it’s very anticipated and very long awaited debut on March 25th (give or take).  A baby that would be my very first ever niece or nephew.

Well that’s a bit of a lie.  I inherited 3 nephews and 1 niece when I married Willie.  And as much as I love those kids (now ages 14 – 21), I never had the pleasure of being around when they were born.  So this expected baby would be my very first, blood-related and newborn niece or nephew.

The phone call was to say that said Baby was not playing by the rules, and had decided to make it’s worldly entrance a month sooner than expected.

Which on my end of things, resulted in a very fast shower, a “won’t be in today” call to the boss, instructions to Willie to get the kids off to school, the longest 2 hour car ride EVER, lots of hugs, only a few tears and much happiness.

May I present my brand new niece, Emily Grace . . .

1 month premature

4 lbs 11 oz

Perfect.  Healthy.  Beautiful.  Loved.

Congratulations B & L!

I haven’t stopped thinking about her since I left the hospital.  I’m clearly very in love already.

The Only Girl finally has some company and there’s a lot of pink girlie stuff to be purchased.  Do you think she’s too young for her very own feather boa?

This weekend I went to a 90th birthday party.  A party for this man.

This man has the bluest eyes ever.

This man is a WWII Veteran and a recent Widower.

This man still enjoys a good day’s work out in the yard.

This man hates peanut butter and has played the lottery for decades.

This man taught me the importance of hard work and the value of a dollar.

This man taught me how to dive and how to spell the word “vacuum”.

This man is a part of many of my best childhood memories.

This man is one of the most special men in my life.

This man is loved so much by so many.

This man is my Grandfather.

Every Remembrance Day, I can’t help but always think of these two men.

My maternal Grandfather.  My Grandad.  Who served as a Dispatch Rider over in England.  Where he met a young British woman who was working in the Woman’s Land Army at the time, fell in love, married her, and eventually brought her back to Canada with him after the war to raise their family.

My paternal Grandfather.  My Grandpa.  Who served in the Canadian Infantry on the front lines in Italy and later, in Holland.  He saw many horrible things and likely had to do many horrible things.  Things which he never really spoke of.  My own father was only 6 months old when my Grandpa left to go to war, and by the time he finally returned, my Dad had become a 4 year old boy.  3 1/2 missing years.  Just another one of the many sacrifices.

I could listen to these men tell their stories for hours.  Literally hours.  And I always thought “They should write these stories down!”  Because although we’ve already lost my Grandpa, one day my Grandad won’t be here either.  And most of the stories will go with him.  Except for what I try really, really hard to put away in my memory vault.  Because they’re really great stories.  Stories of camaraderie and bad conditions.  Stories of triumph and defeat.  It was such a completely different time.  I can barely imagine it.

I appreciate all that they, and all the other Grandpas and Grandads did.

And I’m thankful.

And no – I’ll never forget.

There’s been a lot of changes around The Only Girl Compound this past week, and I’m not just talking about my fabulous new blog makeover.  No, I’m talking about changes in my family.  Some have been good, some have not been.

In the past week my extended family has seen the newborn addition of one member, and the loss of another.

One with a brand new life ahead of them.  A clean slate.  An empty plate.  With wondrous things to come.

And one with a long, full life now behind them.  Leaving behind lots of wonderful memories that will remain forever in our heads and our hearts.

“Forever loved.  Never forgotten.”

And so a new week will soon begin.  And the daily grind will continue.  And I’m sure there will be more changes along the way.

Fingers crossed that they’re good ones!